


Memories and Nostalgia

by Theia_Aithre



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Claudelethweek, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Friendship, Friendship issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Lack of Communication, Memories, Mentions of past abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, My Unit | Byleth Twins, Nostalgia, Other, POV Multiple, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Prompt Fic, References to Depression, Romance, Self-Worth Issues, Slow Burn, Some Chapters Set in the Past, Substance Abuse, Suggestive Themes, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Tension, darker themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theia_Aithre/pseuds/Theia_Aithre
Summary: Written for the January monthly prompt associated with Claudeleth week!(A modern AU focusing on fByleth.)In the summer of Balaiya's twenty-ninth year everything starts to fall apart when she has to move back into her Father's house after getting evicted. To make matters worse, while packing up her things, her friend Hilda discovers some old photos tucked tightly away in a box she never opened, from a program she started seven years back. A box that stirs up old feelings and new complications.Uses names and locations from the game.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril & My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner/My Unit | Byleth's Mother, Minor or Background Relationship(s), My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 98
Kudos: 194





	1. Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone! (I know I said see you next year but I decided this was a thing and this idea forced it's way out of me!) This was written for Claudeleth week! [Monthly prompt for January] since I am working on my Twin Fic it was hard for me to just delete the other twin for this fix, so I decided to keep the same idea— the Byleth's are twins and I've used the name I have for female Byleth in here which is "Balaiya" let me know if that's too jarring or something!
> 
> *This is a modern-like AU, using names and locations from the game.
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> ~Enjoy

"Hilda, can you, I don't know– _not_ look through every folder I have in there?"

"Aw, come on Bala– these are so cute!" The pinkette held up some photos of her brother and herself from high school. "I forgot you guys had almost the exact same haircut."

Balaiya frowned, and set the stack of books down on her bed, and moved over to look at the photo in question. Her frown deepened. "Ugh, I hated that year… not many people look back at high-school with fondness," she reached for the photo, "Give me that."

Hilda laughed and held the photo away from her reach. "Well I do! ♫~" She sing songed. "Besides, you met me that year! So it wasn't all that bad."

"Yeah. That was also the year you convinced me to do all of your history homework." She snatched the photo back and tossed it on her bed, glancing at the photo once more before turning back to her friend. Their hair really was the same back then…She definitely preferred where her hair sat now, delicately at her hips, much like Hilda's.

"But I always asked nicely!" Hilda complained, "besides, you were always so good at it." She grinned up at her then went back to rummaging in her closet. "It gave you good practice miss _I went on to get a masters in history_. Oh! And a teaching degree."

Balaiya rolled her eyes, and filled up another box with– coincidentally, a ton of history books. Getting her bachelors degree was one of the toughest things she had to do in her life so far, she was lucky to have her brother and such good friends to support her. It was definitely worth the struggle since she won a scholarship that paid for her master's program.

"Your brother's a teacher too right?" Hilda called back– head buried in an old box. "What's he teach again?"

"He's a language Professor." Balaiya replied, and started picking up everything Hilda tossed into what was earlier deemed the: _Throw this away, you don't need it pile._

She wasn't very materialistic, just with her own teaching job, she never found the time to go through her things. She was always so busy, but lately, things hadn't been going to well for her... 

"Ah! That's right. Where is he now anyway? Didn't he go off to another country or something? And did you ask to see if you could live in his place instead?"

"He's all the way in Sreng," Balaiya answered, "doing some program with the students there. Besides his place is too far from where I teach Hilda. The travel time would be atrocious." 

"You could have moved in with me!" She re-emerged with another box that had an impressive layer of dust on it. "I just think, moving in with your dad will greatly reduced your life as a young bachelorette!"

Balaiya rolled her eyes again, and tied up a trash bag. "Hilda, I'm twenty eight." Besides, it wasn't like she had many options right now.

"That's still young! You are at the peak of your feminine charm and capability!" She threw her hands up in the air, and started pulling items out of the new box.

"I'm a teacher. I have no time to play games." She sighed, and sat on her bed. "Do you want some tea Hilda? I think we should take a break. It's been hours."

She dramatically pointed a finger at her. "Teachers are still allowed to have some fun! C'mon, when was the last time you had your pipes checked?"

Balaiya felt her nose scrunch up. "Who even says that? And I'm surprised by your work ethic. What's gotten you so motivated?"

Hilda paused, and her voice took on a serious tone. "Honestly, it's because I noticed you were struggling… I wasn't going to mention it until you did, but you asked and I guess I didn't want to lie."

_Oh_. Did getting drunk at Dorothea's engagement party last moon give her away? She wasn't even a crazy drunk, and she _knows_ she didn't black out… though she figured announcing she was getting evicted at said party wasn't the best thing to do…

"Ah, well thank you for your help. Really." She picked at a few fuzz balls from her blanket, and stood up. "So, tea?" She really hoped Hilda would agree, she could use a change of pace, even if it was just going to her kitchen for a few minutes.

Hilda opened up yet another old box and started flipping through it. "Yeah, let me just get this last— Oh my goddess!" She gasped, and quickly scrambled to her feet. "Bala! Who—what?"

Balaiya sighed again, and kept walking to her kitchenette to start the tea.

"Girl! Who's this!?" She shoved a photo in her face of someone she hadn't seen in a little over half a decade.

Her heart skipped, and simultaneously sank into her stomach. "Nobody." She reached for the photo but Hilda quickly spun away from her.

"Oh, goddess he's handsome! Are there more? Ooh!" She took off back to her bedroom.

She had half a mind to chase after her but she couldn't for the life of her remember if there _were_ more pictures… she thought she threw them all out-after everything, she couldn't bare to look at them- and she didn't remember taking that particular one… her mind was swirling too much with memories to allow proper brain function anyway. So she just stood there in silence while her throat burned, and the faint smell of pine-needle tea shoved it's way to the front of her memory, accompanied by the ghost of strong hands and warm laughter.

"We have to talk about this!" Hilda bounded back into the room with a box in hand, one much smaller than the one she'd opened. It was free of dust, indicating it must have been inside the other. "I don't know if I should be mad at you or not!"

Balaiya blinked rapidly, and exhaled slowly. "What do you mean?" She asked as she carefully reached up into her cupboard to get two coffee mugs.

"Who's this handsome snack?" The _flop_ of the Polaroid being shook assaulted her ears.

"He's just a guy that was in my masters program back in Almyra. I only had a few classes with him." She brought the cups over to her tiny table, and pulled up a bar-stool she'd gotten from Catherine's bar. "What kind of tea do you want?" She mumbled.

It didn't look like Hilda was paying her any attention.

"Do you think dry tea leaves can expire?"

"I don't think so– why?" She looked over at her with a frown.

"'Cause I want whatever tea this is!" Hilda held up a what looked like tea leaves, corked in a strangely familiar glass container.

_Oh._

"Why don't you pick something from my shelf Hilda? They're there for a reason."

She started to fuss with the cork. "Nah, I want to know what this tastes like."

"Hilda, don't—"

_Pop_

"Got it!" Hilda grinned triumphantly, and skipped over to prepare the leaves.

Balaiya could only stare with mild panic while the pinkette poured the dark liquid into their cups.

Almyran Pine-needle tea— she did't remembered bringing any back with her, nor could she remember going to the store to look for any…

Hilda took a sip from her cup, and smacked her lips. "Ooo! It's pretty good! What else is hiding in here?" She peered into the box once more, and gasped again. "Bala, you little liar!" She held up another photo.

Her heart could have stopped.

" _Mhm just a guy_ my ass girl!" She shoved the photo in her face. "What's this then?"

Balaiya winced and stared at the photo in grim silence. It was a picture of her from about five years back. She had the biggest (goofiest) smile on her face, and _he_ had his arm around her waist, and the other outstretched, probably holding the camera. He was pulling her tight into his side— the kicker was the sloppy kiss he was pressing into her cheek.

"Who's that?" Hilda prodded urgently.

She felt her palms start to sweat, and her throat dried. "His name is Khalid…"

She hadn't said that name in five years, it felt so strange rasping it out now. Like the very syllables would cut the flesh on it's way out. Was she even saying it right?

"Aaaannndd?"

"And we were friends." She muttered through grit teeth. She reached for the photo, but once again Hilda evaded her. Irritation shot through her faster than hard liquor ever could.

"This doesn't really look like _just friends_. You were totally dating weren't you?"

"No. I never agreed to be his girlfriend." She finally snatched the photo, fully intending to rip it up, but when she glanced at it– she paused.

By the stars did she miss him…

And here she thought she'd gotten over him…

"I know that kissing on the cheek is a common greeting among friends in other countries, but hon– that's not a friendly kiss. Besides! Look how close he's holding you! How _tight_! And don't give me some lame excuse like, oh that's just to fit in the camera frame. You're a teacher, you can come up with a better excuse than that."

She pursed her lips, she hadn't thought about him in about a year— or was it six months? Three? And now he just literally pops back in her life during the worst moment! Hilda would never let this go…

"I'm not lying… we were friends. He sat next to me in some of my classes, we studied together…" She looked down at her mug and carefully, hesitantly lifted it to her lips. She closed her eyes when the wonderful drink touched her tongue. The flavor had definitely dulled due to age, but it was still there.

"Okay, but can you explain this picture?" Hilda held up the photo again.

The tea really was good, she'd forgotten what it tasted like… she took another sip, and set the mug down carefully, a sigh on her lips.

Hilda _tsked_ , "That was a dreamy sigh, I can't believe you never told me about him! How dare you!" She dug her hand back in the box, and pulled out another corked vial, when this one opened up the smell of spices wafted out, and mixed wonderfully with the smell of the tea.

Balaiya set her elbow on the table to support her chin. A memory flashed through her mind of the first time he cooked for her, followed by the first time he made her– as he said, _real tea._

The first time she ever had tea made by hand, he'd explained the processes the leaves went through with enthusiasm in order to make it to her cup. He had opened up a cupboard with many jars filled with all sorts of spices, leaves, and dried fruits. He'd picked out ingredients from different jars and proudly presented her with what he called: Almyran pine-needle tea— a wonderful blend that was far richer than whatever the store sold in bulk in tiny soulless tea bags.

"And what's this?" Hilda asked, and produced a golden bracelet with emerald jewels decorating it. "Wow, it's beautiful! Are these real?" She examined the jewels closely.

She felt her stomach churn, she'd never seen that bracelet before! "Hilda? What else did—" She swiped the box, and peered inside. "I don't recognize any of this…" She whispered and held up a picture of her taken when she attended his cousins wedding, she had originally only tagged along to rehearsals to help organize everything. His cousin had been so kind to her, and apparently really wanted her in the wedding as well. So her first time being a bridesmaid was entirely different than she'd expected. He'd gifted her some beautiful garments to wear for the event. The bright colors, and lovely sashes that adorned her body was just as foreign to her as the dark, and intricate designs that stained her palms over the next few weeks after that. A lovely tradition that took such effort and patience. reserved for only the most special events. The hours she spent in that small room while her palms were decorated flashed to the forefront of her memory. She'd insisted on doing both hands at once to save time– quite a mistake when you couldn't properly feed yourself, though he seemed more than happy to assist her…the twinkle in his eyes that burned her memory could still bring heat to her cheeks.

She flipped to the other side of the photo to find some writing in the back— in Almyran— though she couldn't remember how to read it properly…

Hilda gasped again, as if realizing something. "He sent you a care package!? That's got to be what this is! Don't even try to tell me you've never seen this box before!"

She shook her head slowly, and carefully unfolded a letter that was in his elegant handwriting— she again couldn't read it. "I didn't know…" She mumbled and felt her throat burn again, and her chest ache.

Hilda continued to pull out items that just left her speechless.

A shell from her first time _ever_ to the beach. He'd dragged her out on a particularly hot day, and never told her exactly where he was taking her, just that she'd _never want to leave_. There were a lot of places she never wanted to leave if it meant staying with him…

Bangles he'd let her wear during a festival, they'd gotten up way before dawn and went to the center of the town— the people had a roaring fire blazing, and more song and dance than she could take in. Everyone wore beautiful garments, and shouted out to the sky their joy for the new year. It was the first time she ever lost her voice from use alone…

_Another,_ jar of tea leaves, no doubt his favorite.

A piece that belonged to his favorite board game– one that she could never best him at.

A photo of him hanging upside-down from a tree— winking with a ridiculous grin on his face, and his pose even more so, two finger guns pointed at the camera. _This_ image she remembered taking, she'd taken his Polaroid, and snapped a picture of him while he bragged about something that escaped her. But she could remember smiling, laughing.

Hilda took that picture and examined it. "Wow, _and he had a good body?"_ She pointed to his obviously opened button down. "And a sense of humor, apparently. Goddess! Balaiya, you got to fess up! What does the letter say?"

She shifted in the seat, uncomfortable. "I don't remember much of the language…I haven't really looked at it in five years." There were only a few phrases she remembered, and the letter was written in a version of the language she hasn't known until she'd gotten there. One he taught her, the one she tried to forget.

"How could you study something for so long and forget?!" Hilda slammed her hand on the table.

"I dived right into Brigidish and Dagdan right after!" She defended. It was true, she'd locked up all her books from Almyra, and focused diligently on other things. The history of a place far away from the world she had grown to cherish.

"Well, I feel like you _wanted_ to forget." She grew serious again. "Did he hurt you, hon?"

"No!" She answered, offense seeping into her tone, as if she'd asked if _she'd_ hurt him… but then— she probably did…

Did she?

"Well then? If you had this amazing experience in Almyra why didn't you ever talk about it? You gave us like, no details when you got back! And why did you date that guy from your old job at the bar? I mean, don't get me wrong. Your ex was cute, nice and all, but I don't think you guys had that spark… the one I always talk about! But still, he was nice. I was surprised when you suddenly broke it off with him."

Balaiya groaned and covered her face with her hand. Why was she bringing up her ex? That was just another thing she tried to forget… she'd definitely hurt him when she'd randomly broke up with him a few years ago… But it wasn't so random for **her** , just everyone else that thought they were such a cute couple.

"You know what? Fuck it…" She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "I broke up with my ex because— because the last time I _was_ **with** him, ya know, my ex—" She waved her hand around, and Hilda lifted an eyebrow and nodded. "Well… I saw _his_ face…" She sighed and gestured to the silly picture of _him_ hanging upside-down.

"Did you call him by the wrong name? Ooo!" She gasped, and covered her mouth. "You two did it, didn't you?" She shook the photo again. "Don't lie to meeee!"

"No! I didn't call him the wrong name Hilda, sheesh… You watch way too many dramas!" She pressed her hands together and sighed heavily. Hell, she was glad she never did such an embarrassing thing! It was bad enough that she broke his heart in the first place, if she'd done something like that- well that would have destroyed him- she'd never be able to forgive herself. Spilling the beans now wouldn't really put her in a deeper hole than she already was, would it? "The Masters Program I did was two full years, summer included, remember?"

Hilda nodded. "Uhuh, you left on your twenty first birthday! I was so sad to see you go!"

"Well… I spent that first year by his side… we really did work on many projects together." She took a steadying breath. "And the second year in his bed…"

Hilda gasped so loudly it startled her. "I knew it!" She nearly shrieked. "What happened!?"

She frowned deeply and swallowed thickly, her chest constricted tightly. "I— don't know… the program ended and we graduated… then I left…" she shrugged a shoulder, that was the bare bones of it all ayway.

"You left? Did he ask you to stay?"

She nodded.

"And you still left? Just _poof_ gone! Like that?" She snapped her fingers. "No contact, **ever**? For like _five years?"_

"I had to leave! I had to come home…" She was promised a good job, a wonderful internship, a great opportunity! She worked so hard for these things, to get to where she was now! She couldn't have just abandoned it! For what?

For a warm smile? A tight embrace, a reason to laugh? A beautiful land with a beautiful boy, with an even beautifuler pair of beautiful emerald eyes…

"Hmph, I'm sure you could have visited! I can't believe this…" She pulled out a small pouch from the box, and opened it, "These are pretty!"

Balaiya leaned over to look at her new discovery, and gasped herself. "Those were his earnings…" She whispered. "He only ever wore one though…" She felt her eyes burn as she reached for the delicate hoops.

"He gave you all of this without you noticing? I have a feeling you were supposed to find this _years_ ago… He was totally in to you! You said it yourself he asked you to stay! If that couldn't work, then why didn't he come with you? Even for a little?"

"He— I…we… I told him I wasn't looking for anything— it sort of just happened…I told him he'd be better off without me…" She mumbled.

Hilda whipped out her phone. "I can't believe this, you were so into him- still into him- yourself! I can see it in your eyes!"

"What are you doing?" She frowned. "And I'm not! I just… he was a good friend. I miss him is all…"

"I'm trying to see if he has any profiles online! We got to find a way to contact him!"

"No, no! You can't!" She tried to take her phone.

"Why not?" she dodged, and stood from the table.

"Because I…" She chewed her bottom lip. "Because he's probably married by now…" She blinked back the tide from her eyes. He probably hated her by now… or better, forgot all about her. She wasn't a very memorable girl, too odd for most yet not odd enough to be considered special, just weird.

"I'm making some phone calls. You haven't convinced me that you never want to see him again."

"What? How? You didn't even give me a chance!" She protested as if she were still an adolescent. As if _she_ were the student arguing with her teacher for a better grade. How'd she get reduced to this so quickly?

Absurd.

Hilda sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Fine, I've got Dorothea on hold. Give me one thing you miss about him." She put her hand on her hip.

"One thing I miss? Isn't that counterproductive?" She frowned, her mind racing. This was a trick question, wasn't it?

"Hurry up! One thing! Tell me!" She demanded.

Balaiya groaned and covered her face again. "I don't know?... His eyes?" His laughter? His smile? The food he used to cook for her? The way he said her name…

Hilda narrowed her eyes at her and turned back to her phone. "Hm, I thought so." She cleared her throat. "Hey Dorothea! I have a huge project!" She walked out of the room.

Balaiya hit her head on the table, and reached for the photo of him kissing her cheek.

Should she have picked something else to say?...


	2. Nostalgia

_Her last book neatly tucked into her bag, Balaiya stood, and swung it over her shoulder. This next week definitely felt like it was going to be hectic. The Professor had assigned such a large research project to do– with the option of working in groups._

_The only bad thing was that she hadn't asked anyone yet if she could pair up or join their group- she had been too shy- and no one had_ _asked_ ** _her_** _either. And today was the last day to decide. With a sigh, she carefully moved over to one of the steps that lined the lecture hall, and made her way to the front where the Professor stood collecting everyone's paperwork._

 _‘_ It won't be that bad, you always preferred to work alone anyway when Leth wasn't around.’ _She thought to herself, and slipped to the back of the line._ ‘Yeah, but this isn't highschool, or undergrad— this is your masters! There is so much more work.’ _Arguing with herself had become the norm lately. This was the first time she was completely alone, and she often felt it heavy on her chest. Her whole life was spent besides her twin, even undergrad! Now? She was thousands of_ **_miles_ ** _away from him. From home. In a country that didn't even speak the language she spoke in her thoughts. She missed having someone by her side that could just 'get' her. Someone she didn't have to explain herself to._

_The professor rose a brow at her when it was her turn, and she cleared her throat. “I'll be working alo—”_

_“With me.~”_

_She stumbled over her pronunciation in her confusion as her interrupter handed the professor a sheet of paper._

_Not wanting to make a fool of herself she calmly glanced to her side to see who spoke, slightly relieved to find a familiar face— but she couldn't remember a name._

_Instead she nodded her confirmation and walked out into the hallway, her new partner on her heels. She tightened her grip on her bags strap, and tore her eyes away from the tile that blindly reflected the fluorescents into her eyes to focus on his face._

_He must be in some of her other classes, but she still couldn't figure out his name! Though she was relieved that she wouldn't have to shoulder such a work load on her own anymore she was irked that this guy didn't even_ **_ask_ ** _first! On top of that he didn't even introduce himself to her, she'd just have to do it then._

_“What makes you think I don't have a group already?” She winced internally, that hadn't been what she'd meant to say but— would saying sorry now make her look silly??_

_A smirk snuck onto his face, and he stretched his arms behind his head. “_ **_Do_ ** _you?”_

_She frowned, the tone he used was somewhere between smug and innocent, and the tilt he did with his head didn't help her ability to judge on which side it leaned more towards. She felt heat creep into her cheeks._

_Cute._

_Her eyes widened as the word passed through her mind, and she mentally scolded herself. She didn't even know this guy! He probably used that same innocent— or smug aura of his on all the girls! She was too old to be entertaining these trains of thought! She was way past that stage in her life— at least she thought she was._

_He laughed, seemingly unaffected by her less than friendly response. Or was he mocking her?..._

_“I'll take that as a no then.”_

_“Hm…” She sighed, if he was going to ignore her rudeness, the best she could do was apologize, and thank him. A proper introduction wouldn't hurt either. “Sorry… I'm Balaiya. Thanks for letting me work with you. You are?”_

_Amusement filled his eyes again, but he made a gesture of offense— his hand covered his heart and his brows furrowed, though his tone made it clear that he wasn't actually offended_ _. “Ah, am I so easily forgettable? I introduced myself on the first day of class— I'm Khalid. I’m the incredibly handsome fellow that sits next to you in three of your terribly interesting classes.” He laughed again, and she found the heat in her cheeks spreading to her ears, this time from embarrassment. “After all they must be if you forgot me already!”_

_She looked over him again, and it clicked. He was right! He'd sat next to her on the first day, and introduced himself quite kindly. He'd even offered to help her find a good place to eat!_

_She must look like a tomato— she definitely felt like one._

_“Oh.” Was her intelligent response._

_._

* * *

_._

_Stars?_ Balaiya frowned, and rubbed her eyes, why were there stars on her ceiling?— oh.

She sighed, and sat up. Her childhood room hadn't changed too much— if at all from when she used to share a room with her brother. She pushed back the faded pink comforter that covered the bed that occupied the corner of the room. She glanced back up at the ceiling, a small smile forming. When they'd started high-school her brother moved to his own room down the hall. She'd been very adamant that the stars stay on the ceiling when her Dad remodeled the room for her.

She was surprised he hadn't changed anything since she last slept in this bed.

Her feet quickly found coverage in her worn out slippers, and she opened the door that lead into the long hall.

_Everything stayed the same._

She thought, and stepped over that one floorboard she just _knew_ would creak if she so much as touched it. She ran her hand along the wall as she slowly made her way to the staircase at the end of the hall.

_Same old worn out carpet, same cracks along the wall._

She sighed, but couldn't help the small smile. Was it nostalgia? She remembered talking to Dad about him fixing up the house, but that was years ago. Neither of them really got around to starting anything…maybe she could try and change that?

_Nothing seemed to change._

She slipped into the tiny bathroom— more of a cubby than anything, and washed her face. Her travel toothbrush still where she left it in the medicine cabinet from the last few nights— besides the same old toothpaste her Dad had gotten since she was a child.

She shuffled out into the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee. A full pot was necessary since her Dad did enjoy his coffee black. She took out two mugs and placed them on the counter.

The coffee finished it's brewing, and her Dad appeared in the doorway. “'Mornin Bala. Sleep well?”

She moved the cups over to their small kitchen table— big enough for four, though one chair sat with the same old stack of books on it that had been there for years.

She sighed, and handed him his cup then sat across from him. Images of her dream resurfacing. “It was okay. I'm rested enough.”

He nodded, and drank from his mug— the same one that had a crack in one side ever since her brother dropped it in Middle School, and miraculously it hadn't shattered. She'd never seen his eyes so big.

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she took a sip from her cup. She instantly recoiled. She'd forgotten the creme. A tired sigh announced her displeasure, and she retreated to the fridge. Warmth filled her chest when she found the small cartoon of creme in the fridge— still unopened.

Dad chuckled. “I got that for you the other day. I know you don't usually care for the bitterness.”

“Thank you.” Coffee now to her liking, she returned to her seat, and surveyed the kitchen once more. The walls were still that soft lavender that signified the gentler touches that spoke of someone that once filled the halls with soft laughter, and even softer smiles. Someone who's stuff still lingered on a chair that hadn't been touched in over two decades. Except like all things, faded, and peeling.

“Have you heard from Leth?” Dad asked in his gruff voice. One that must have been the result of the years of smoking he did in his youth— until he quit. Only to start again after _she_ was no longer around. Because what other reason did he have not to?

She eyed the ashtray that sat in the middle of the table, where once a vase of flowers used to nearly shine. She couldn't remember what kind of flowers though.

Perhaps _some_ things changed.

“No I haven't, I actually didn't pay too much attention to my phone these last few days.”

She didn't want to answer the flood of messages she was sure waited for her— left there by her oldest friend. “I was just, enjoying being home.” She said instead. There was no point in telling him why she didn't want to look at her phone. She eyed the chair again. He didn't need to hear about her immature woes.

“I told him you came home.” Dad leaned back in his chair. “He's going to try and make it for your twenty ninth.”

A groan left her lips, and she rubbed her eyes. “Don't remind me how old I'm getting.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Why don't you tell me what you've been up to? Do you still go to Alois's house to watch the game?”

He laughed then, an honest one that made her smile. “That bastard owes me forty bucks! Last week we bet over which team would win, and he lost— miserably too. I might have to strangle the money out of him!”

“Don't do that. Alois means well.”

“Yeah yeah, oh, have you gone to visit anybody yet? What about Catherine? I'm sure she'd be happy to see you.”

She shook get head. “No, I haven't gone to see anybody yet…” She smirked. “Knowing Catherine she probably just wants to get an apron around my neck again.”

“Hmm, a little summer job might not hurt Bala. You've got the whole summer off— being a teacher and all- aside from the meetings. You might as well do something. I’m surprised pinkie hasn't broken down my door since you said you haven't been answering your phone an—”

The shrill _ring_ from the terribly old corded phone that hung on the wall interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.

“How much you want to bet that's her?” Her Dad said with a smirk, and went to answer it.

Balaiya covered her eyes. “Nothing. Please don’t answer—”

He did anyway.

“Hello? Oh! Hello there… mhm. Yeah she hasn't, that's right. She'd love to. Twenty minutes? Perfect. She will. Yup, see you soon.”

A frown cut into her face. “Dad!? What the—”

“Yup that was Hilda. She's coming to get you in twenty minutes.”

She groaned, and stared down at her cup mournfully. “Gee, thanks.”

He slapped a torn piece of notebook paper in front of her. “Whenever you get the chance, could you get some things for me while you're out?”

“Fine.” She muttered, and snatched the list off the table.

She really didn't want to go anywhere. To the store? _That_ she didn't mind. Running errands for her Dad was no problem, but going out with Hilda? Knowing the girl surely had an agenda made her wish she had a valid excuse _not_ to go anywhere.

~★~

Hilda showed up surprisingly exactly twenty minutes later in her cherry red convertible, and announced her arrival with a honk, and an obnoxious “I'm here!” As she burst through the door.

Balaiya sighed, and stood from her place on the couch. The simple black t-shirt and boot cut jeans she wore with tennis shoes looked awfully plain next to Hilda's bright pink dress— a color that only enhanced the tresses that hung from her head in two mature twin-tails atop her head. “I knew I should have taken your keys.” She mumbled and greeted the younger woman with a hug.

“Oh you'd never!” She squeezed her, and turned to her Dad who watched them with amusement. “Hello Sir. Eisner! I brought you some coffee grounds!” She waved the bag in the air then handed them to him proudly.

“Thanks. I can never have enough.” He chuckled then motioned to the door. “Make sure my little girl has a good time. She's been cooping herself in doors these last few days.”

“I will~♪” Hilda grabbed her by the shoulders, and forced her out of the house, and into the passenger seat of her car. “Hon, I hope your whole wardrobe isn't so— single momish.”

She felt her face heat up. “There's nothing wrong with my wardrobe. Besides I'm shocked you're on time. You're usually late.” Balaiya muttered, and brought her hair over her shoulder so she could play with it. Or release some nerves. She'd worn it down, nothing in it. So her head was framed with baby hairs, to which her shadow on the car door reflected with embarrassing accuracy.

“It's only for you, hon. And looks like I might have to take you shopping.” Hilda popped on some cat eye sunglasses and readjusted her mirror. “You're forcing me to. I mean, if you're going to be acting so gloomy, then someone needs to kick your butt so I can go back to my laid back schedule.”

“You're a hair stylist. You're schedules usually busy isn't it?” Balaiya asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, but I've now become the creme of the crop! People _die_ to let me do their hair. I could technically only work two days a week, and live off of that!” She swung out of the driveway. “But I enjoy too many things, a girl has to indulge herself now and again. So, of course I take more appointments.” She offered her a stick of strawberry gum.

Balaiya shook her head. “No thank you.”

Hilda shrugged, and took one herself. “I've taken some time off for you hon, which means a few less shopping sprees for me.” She hung her head solemnly.

“Where are we going?” Balaiya asked with a defeated sigh. It was never a good idea to fight Hilda when she made up her mind. Especially, if she'd rearranged her schedule for her. The best thing she could do was let the current take her.

“We're going to Catherine's! I invited our friends, and the only way you are getting out of this, is if you jump out of my car.” She laughed and sped up slightly— the wind whipping around them as if to punctuate her sentences.

Balaiya glanced over the car door, and _almost_ considered it.

.

* * *

.

“And that's the story!” Hilda's voice sang like an overzealous sports announcer.

Dorothea hummed, and took the daintiest sip from the glass that balanced in her hand. “Sounds like quite the story, have you found any trace of him online yet Hilda?”

The pinkette stuck her lip out in a pout. “No, I was thinking if I knew his last name it might be easier to find him. Almyra has so many more people than Fódlan does, though I guess it could be possible that many others have a similar name. I mean, when I was in my fifth year there was three other Hildas in my class! Ugh and they were all horrible!!"

Balaiya covered her face with her hands. “Hilda, can you please leave it alone?” She glared at the fizzy drink in her cup. Hilda had told Catherine she wasn't allowed to have alcohol today, as if she were some sort of child. “When's Mercie and Annette coming?” She asked, hoping for a subject change.

“Annette is stuck in traffic.” Hilda snapped her gum. “And I _bet_ Mercie’s just gotten out of bed. She was up late volunteering again.”

Dorothea seemed to notice her distress, and came to her rescue. “Hilda, sweetie, have you considered whether or not she even wants to see him again?”

“I did!” Hilda crossed her legs and inspected the toe of her stiletto. “I asked her what was one thing she missed about him– you wanna know what she said?—”

Balaiya frowned, and turned in her seat to face the two girls. “Hilda—”

“She said his eyes! Now can you tell me, does that sound like an answer of someone that never wants to see someone again??”

Dorothea hummed. “Well… what color were they?”

Balaiya frowned. “It doesn't matter. I was just— confused as to why she was asking me the question.”

“Were they brown?” Hilda prodded.

Why was Hilda asking her that? Hadn't she seen the photo of him? His eyes were so obvious in it!

Her mouth started moving before she had the mind to stop it. “No, they were green… but in the sunlight— they sometimes looked golden…”

Dorothea and Hilda stared at her for a moment then at each other. Dorothea nodded. “You're right.”

Realization hit her- ah, a trap, of course- she waved her hand between their faces. “No, no. That doesn't mean anything! You guys. You're making me seem like a foolish teen.”

Hilda shook her head and moved her hand. “Honey, please. That's all you. We're not _making_ you do anything.”

“I'm searching too, but there are so many people with his name. It's possible his profile isn't in Fodlani,” Dorothea mumbled.

Balaiya ran a hand through her hair, and sat back in her chair. “Guys please. Can you just drop it?”

Dorothea put her phone down. “What are you afraid of? If he's taken then we should find out. Wouldn't that be better than living forever not knowing?”

What she was saying made sense, but at the same time… she eyed the ring on her friend's finger. If he _was_ taken— could she even… She shook her head. Did she even deserve to feel upset if he was when she was the one that left him in the first place? They hadn't even been together! They weren't even a couple… And yet…

Yet, he still held her so close.

He still let her hold his hand…

Still let her ask for more…

Let her _take._

“It… probably wouldn't hurt.” She mumbled after a moment, but the words felt heavy on her tongue.

“That's the spirit!” Hilda showed Dorothea something on her phone. “That's what he looks like.”

Balaiya scoffed, she took a picture of the photo?? The sneaky little—

“Oh! You were right, he is handsome. I wonder what he looks like now…” She turned back to her phone. “Bala, sweetie. Can you please write out his name in Almyran? If we _do_ find him. We promise we won't mention you at all, unless you want us too. Will that be better? Hilda won't either.” She sent a glare to the Pinkette. “Right?”

Hilda sighed dramatically. “Fine. We won't. Promise. We won't even contact him first. Unless you want us to.”

Balaiya stared between them silently, her lip trapped between her teeth. As long as they kept their promise then no one really needed to get hurt again. Except for possibly her, but then again— she would deserve it.

“I guess that sounds fair…” She sighed heavily, and tightened her fist around her napkin before releasing it reaching into Hilda's purse for a pen. "Okay, so his name is written like this…" she wrote everything out, "It can be written like this, as well—" she showed them an alternate spelling, "—but if you see that then it is definitely not him…"

"Ah this is perfect!" Dorothea snapped a picture of the napkin, "Ferdie works with people all over the place, I'll see if he knows anyone by the name, or if he knows anyone in the area at the least. He very well might, big business, and what have you."

Balaiya sighed heavily, dread filling her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read my story! It inspired me to continue it!


	3. Reminice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bala gets lost in another memory while helping Mercedes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There are hints of past abuse in this chapter.

The soft tinkling that announced her entrance into the tiny bakery put a smile on her face. Mercedes's shop had always been a place she could come just to relax, though she hadn't visited the bakery in a long time. Of course she never left the place without buying something. Despite how much the older girl insisted she didn't have to. Today she finally got the courage to reach out and ask for her friend to spend some time with her. So Mercedes suggested they see a movie after she closed up shop.

Mercedes kept her schedule the same, she would take lunch at 11 o'clock and end just before noon so she could be present for the rest of the day. As a result she didn't have time for any other breaks and usually had dinner after she closed. So Balaiya decided to bring her food before their outing. Even though the dinner rush wasn't as hectic as the snack hour she was definitely surprised when she walked in at six and saw a tall redhead leaning on the counter.

“What would you like today Mr. Gautier?” Mercedes asked with the sweetest of smiles. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped closer to her oven— her kitchen had always been open, allowing customers the opportunity to watch her work.

“Hm, I'm not sure. What do you recommend?” The man tilted his head back to briefly look at the handwritten menu.

Mercedes smiled wider and slipped on her oven mitts. “We'll, I'm just about to fetch the batch of sugar cookies in the oven.”

“Then I'll go with one of those.” He produced a simple dollar from his shirt pocket and held it between two fingers.

Balaiya tilted her head and moved over to one of the small tables to wait. Was this guy really buying _one_ cookie?

Mercedes pulled out the tray and set it on the counter. “You're going to have to wait a few minutes for them to cool a bit. I hope you don't mind, Sir.”

He shook his head and handed the dollar to her. “I don't mind at all Ms. Martritz.”

She smiled again and popped the dollar in her register. “So, how is your new apartment?” She grabbed a spray bottle and started wiping down the counters.

The man shrugged and moved off the counter long enough to allow her to wipe it before he was back to leaning on it. He was either friends with her, or a cocky regular. Balaiya didn't want to eavesdrop, but she also wanted to make sure her friend stayed safe.

“Eh it's alright. Awfully small, much too quiet.” He sighed and started playing with her business cards. “It could also use some decorating, I'm terrible at that. My walls are bone white.”

“Hmm, well maybe you could get a tapestry? Those are nice ways to brighten up a room.” Mercedes grabbed a small paper bag and slipped one of the cookies in it, she then folded the bag over and carefully sealed it with a sticker that sure looked like a heart. “Here you are.” She smiled warmly and handed him the bag.

“Thank you Miss.”

“Have a good night Mr. Gautier.” She waved her mitten at him.

He grinned and shoved a five into her tip jar before ducking out of the shop.

Balaiya watched in silence for a few moments before loudly clearing her throat. “What was _that_ , Mercie?”

Mercedes jumped and turned to her with widened eyes. “Oh! Bala! You're here already? Since when did— I…” She fussed with her apron. “What was what?”

She sighed and moved over to her counter. “I walk in to find you so absorbed in conversation you didn't even hear the chime when I arrived!”

“I didn't greet you? Oh my— forgive me. Here, I'll do it now—”

“No, it's okay. I'm only teasing Mercie!” She shook her head in emphasis.

“Welcome to Treats by Martritz! I hope you like sweets! How can I help you?” She smiled gently.

She couldn't help but smile back. “That rhyme really is adorable, but really— I was just kidding. I don't mind waiting for you. Though you have to explain to me what I just saw.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mercedes, you sealed his cookie bag with a _heart_ sticker. It's not even close to Valentine's.”

Mercedes's eyes widened. “You saw that?? Oh— oh Bala, I don't know why I did that! It just happened…” She sighed heavily and covered her face with her hands. “I don't know what's gotten into me, I need advice.”

“Advice? On what?”

There weren't many scenarios that she could think of where Mercedes needed help dealing with people. She was such a people person in fact she often helped strangers on the street! Her mind whizzed past the possibilities. Was this man harassing her? The conversation didn't seem inappropriate, in fact rather than pry her for information he spoke more of himself. There was also the fact that the older woman seemed flustered for sealing his purchase with an out of season heart sticker.

“Mercie, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Goddess knows I'm terrible at this. I'm sure you've heard all the details by now from Hilda and Dorothea about me, but— do you like this man?”

“Oh goddess…” Mercedes sighed and pulled up a stool to sit on. Her whole body seemed to slouch in on itself. “He's nice to talk to.”

Balaiya eyed her friend carefully. “Do you know his name? I heard you call him Mr. Gautier, but…”

“His name is Sylvain. I try to keep things professional. I was surprised he chose to call me by my last name too. All my other regulars call me Mercedes.” She fussed with her apron. “That must mean he doesn't— I mean…”

“Maybe he's only doing so because, _you_ do so?” She offered.

“I do that with all my customers though!”

“Has he always been so formal?”

Mercedes sighed and shook her head. “He addressed me by name the first day he ever came in. You know the way many do,they read your name tag. He introduced himself, but I insisted on being formal.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Maybe four months? It couldn't be much longer.”

Balaiya nodded slowly and pulled out the dinner she'd picked up for Mercedes from her bag. “How often does he come?”

She took the bag with a silent thank you and tapped her cheek. “Well I used to be every other week, then every Sunday. Now, I see him everyday. He’ll come in, buy a cookie for a dollar then leave a five in my tip jar sometimes more…”

“Mercie, he just gives you almost two hundred a month in tips alone? Has he asked you for anything?”

“Oh my, I didn't even realize how much that was… well he asked me to dinner a while back, but I respectfully declined. Perhaps I should return his money? I don't want to be giving him the wrong idea…”

“No, I'm not saying you are… does he make you feel unsafe?”

“Oh goddess no. He's actually quite charming.” She smiled and happily bit into her sandwich.

“Then… Why don't you have dinner with him sometime? What's stopping you? I wouldn't miss the opportunity.” She sighed and looked down at the bracelet that Hilda had found in her closet. It now felt heavy on her wrist. Heavens knew she had done just that. Missed an opportunity. But she had a good reason!

She tore into her own sandwich. Had she though? She'd spent the last few weeks being questioned about it so much that she started to question herself!

He was so kind to her, even when initially she had been anything but. Then when she'd gotten comfortable, she'd pushed.

“I don't know. Maybe I'm nervous. Even though it was ten years ago, my last relationship didn't end well… as you know.” She sighed and rubbed at her neck where purple fingerprints used to stain her skin.

Balaiya felt a chill run down her spine at the memory. Even now, Mercie still wore scarves almost every day. “It's understandable. Just know I'm here to protect you. Hell, I know the others wouldn't hesitate to help you if you need it Mercie.”

She laughed. “I know, but that's why I haven't told even Annie about this guy.”

“Really, why not?” Balaiya tilted her head, she couldn't think of a reason why Mercedes wouldn't tell her oldest friend well, _anything_.

Mercedes sighed and dabbed at her face with a napkin. “Well, he went to highschool with Felix— they didn't get along too well.”

Her eyes widened. “Annie’s Felix?”

“Yes! It gets crazier though because I guess he was married to Ingrid, but they separated after only being together for barely three years.”

Balaiya quickly went over the different faces she'd seen at get togethers. “I thought Ingrid was engaged to Felix’s brother.”

“Now she is. But I suppose she eloped with this guy right after highschool… ”

Balaiya observed her friend silently for a moment. “Did he tell you all this?”

“Yeah he actually did. I wasn't too surprised though. Many of my customers tell me their life story.” She smiled and stood to prepare some tea.

“Why did they split?”

“That's the problem, he said he cheated on her.” She sighed and turned back to her. “I turned him down when he first asked me to dinner but that was before he told me all that… He hasn't asked again, but lately. I find myself looking forward to seeing him everyday. I can't help but wonder— what if he stops coming? Will I ever see him again? I _do_ consider him a friend. I even offered to give him treats for free but he refused the offer.”

That was certainly a lot to take in. This Sylvain guy must be really into her if he was being so honest about his mistakes. Granted, it could also be a method of putting her guard down, but Mercie wasn't disarmed so easily. Not after what _she'd_ been through. For her to be so conflicted over this must really mean something. Mercie was and is a kind soul. She treated everyone with such kindness.

Balaiya waited until Mercedes returned to the table with their cups before speaking. “Mercie, if it was me that told you these things… that I'd cheated and hurt someone like that. What would you say?”

She sipped her tea, mulling over it for a moment before saying. “I would try and find out your reasoning. However I know things like that are complicated. People often do things without thinking, without thinking about how they could hurt others.” Her hand ghosted to her neck again. “And potentially even themselves. Over all, what matters most is that you are sorry, that you recognize your mistakes. The want and effort to be a better person is what counts. If they could do those things then I truly believe those people deserve a second chance.”

“So… maybe that's your answer then.” Balaiya said.

“I… guess you're right.” She smiled and dug into her apron and pulled out a worn looking piece of paper. It had a tear on one side and multiple creases, as if it had been open and closed multiple times. “I'll— I’ll give him a call.” She looked up, her brows furrowed. “Bala, would you drop me off? And maybe pick me up as well?”

“Of course, any way I can help you. I will.”

A wider smile spread on her face. “Thank you.” She stood and started clearing off the table. “Oh I asked before even figuring out any details! Silly me…”

Balaiya shook her head. “No it's okay. Wherever you need to go. I'll help you.”

The two women flitted about the store, finishing up closing for the day. Balaiya swept and mopped the floor while Mercedes took care of the kitchen. All the while Balaiya couldn't help but think back on their conversation. Even though she used herself as an example, Mercedes’s advice didn't feel that far off from her own situation. Her own friend, whom she cared so much for. He'd only asked her out once as well— she made sure to tell him she wasn't looking for anything serious. She just wanted to focus on her studies. But she'd been selfish, a part of her knew even then. But she was feeling the guilt even heavier now.

She stared down at her reflection in the floorboards with a quiet sigh but all that she could see was striking green eyes. She leaned in closer. Was it just her guilt causing her to see him now? Lately everything she did jogged up a memory, but now she was seeing things? If she listened hard enough she could just barely make out a voice… and the jingling of keys.

.

.

_“Hello! I'm here, my friend!”_

_Her door swung open and Balaiya looked up to see her friend walking through the door with a few books in his arms. “I can see that.” Sure stated bluntly, and returned to scrubbing the floor. The mystery stain continued to laugh at her as it refused to even lighten up. She scowled at her reflection. Everything else was spotless but this damn spot!_

_“Ooo, someone is in a bad mood~.” Khalid walked over, and looked down at her. “What are you doing?”_

_She glared at his stupid face in the floor. “I'm trying to clean this stain— obviously. And just because I gave you keys to my apartment doesn't mean you can pop in without texting me first.”_

_He laughed, and knelt beside her. “Ah, shall I leave? I wanted to surprise you.”_

_"No," she sighed and shook her head. “you can stay.”_

_He nudged her head gently with his, something he started doing a lot lately, “You take a break. I'll do this. Why don't you spend the rest of your day reading these?” He held up the books._

_Are they for me?” she asked, eyes wide._

_He nodded._

_She threw the rag down, and eagerly took the books from his arms. Her eyes scanned carefully over the script. Reading Almyran gave her almost as much joy as speaking it. The language often looked as beautiful as it sounded. She did her best to pronounce everything properly, to give it justice. Even now, after so many years of study, she_ **_still_ ** _had people telling her she had an accent._

_He chuckled, and picked up the rag. “They're classics. Wonderful myths and legends. I know how much you like history. These are actually an important part of our culture. Many of them are local tales that don't get published by bigger places."_

_“Thank you so much.” She smiled and moved over to the over-sized cushion she had haphazardly thrown in the corner when she moved into the tiny efficiency. “That's really kind of you.”_

_He grinned, and started scrubbing the floor himself. “I saw the titles and thought of you, my friend.”_

_She chewed the inside of her lip. Khalid's pronunciation was what she found herself trying to mimic. At first she'd picked her Professor as a reference, but though he was also from Almyra. His speech felt so robotic, and dry. Khalid treated words like a poem. And lately, the way he said_ ‘my friend’ _made her squirm. Made her ache… made her restless._

_She forced herself to focus on the text in front of her, and was soon deeply engrossed in the fantastical tale that danced across each page._

_The smell of fresh tea pulled her out of her revere and she moved over to the counter where her kettle sat._

_“Hope you don't mind, I made tea.” He grinned, handing her a mug._

_She took it wordlessly, and looked over at where the stain_ **_used_ ** _to be. “You cleaned it??” Her eyes widened in disbelief, she put the cup on the counter to go inspect the floor._

_“Yup. All it needed was a little gentle coaxing.” He smirked, and winked at her from over the rim of his cup._

_She stared down at the floor then back over to where he stood then she turned to where she'd left the books he'd gifted her. The nerve of him, to just quite literally barge in and flip her day around so easily. She was feeling rather sour before he arrived. Now? It was as if her mood had never been bad to begin with. “How do you always manage to make me smile?” She muttered, and walked back over to him._

_He shrugged nonchalantly, "Talent?", he set his cup beside hers on the counter._

_She looked at their cups then at the other dishes newly cleaned, and stacked to dry. He'd also done her dishes. Funny how he came over so much she now had almost two of everything. Even though his place was much nicer than hers, he often chose her place to study, or simply pass the time. “How long do you plan to stay?” She mumbled quietly._

_He shrugged again. “Not sure. As long as you want me to.” He laughed slightly. “But really, I could help you with dinner if you want. Or we could go pick something up?” He took his card out of his pocket, and waved it in her face. “Or we could order something? Whatever works, my friend.”_

_“Whatever works?” She repeated quietly._

_“Mhm.”_

_She stepped closer to him to look up into his face. She couldn't remember what she did before he started coming over. Weren't there days where she skipped dinner? Even meals for the whole day? Did she ever read for fun before? Why did she continue to pretend she wasn't actually looking forward to his visits? Isn't that why she gave him a key? They were friends, nothing more or less, she'd stated as much some time ago when he had asked for a date. Still, the thought of him never stopping by again, of never seeing him again._

_She had a year left of her degree, though it filled her with joy to know she had gotten so far. She felt hollow._

_She hadn't realized she was kissing him until she felt his hands cradle her face. He responded without hesitation, his lips molding against hers with an eagerness that burned. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and her hand twisted into his hair._

_He must have added spice to the tea again. Something she discovered awhile ago that he liked to do._

_Against her better judgement she deepened the kiss, trapped him against the counter she knew was behind him._

_There was so much more she wanted, but her mind was whirling. She felt unsteady. Lost._

_She brazenly pushed further, fueled by the strange emptiness she felt._

_His hands never left her face despite the way she pushed herself into him, and she found no resistance when she prodded her tongue into his mouth._

_She wasn't sure if the sigh that touched her ears was actually hers, but she felt a jolt of panic settle into her stomach when he pulled away from her._

_Despite it all, he didn't recoil, in fact he retreated just enough so she could see his face. His brows were furrowed, but he continued to cradle her face in his hands. As if she were precious._

_She wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. Growing up she'd always been treated so coldly. Failed attempts at relationships always ended with her getting called heartless, so she stopped trying._

_And whatever this was, whatever friendship they had. Surely she ruined it before anything could even be considered. She'd already shut it down._

_She expected him to get angry or upset. Yell at her or push her away._

_Instead he smiled that smile that always seemed to take her breath away and he gently rubbed his thumbs into her cheeks. “Why do your eyes look so sad, my friend?” He whispered like a prayer, a secret._

_She swallowed thickly and attempted her own smile, but her lips trembled too much. What was wrong with her? Was she homesick? Lonely? Desperate?_

_“I— I don't know.”_

_He smiled again and nudged his head against hers. “That's okay. Whatever you need, I'm here.”_

_._

_._

“Bala!” Mercie swept back into the lobby with a grin on her face.

Balaiya startled at her friends sudden entrance and nearly knocked over the mop bucket. “What is it Mercie?”

“I'm going to meet up with him at the park by the lake then we're going to have dinner across the street at that wonderful little diner.”

“That sounds great Mercie! When?”

She colored. “Oh, um next weekend.”

“Alright. If you need anything. Don't forget I'm here—” A frown tugged at her lips. Just how many things had she been saying that were subconsciously just repeats of things he'd said to her?

Would he even really remember her?

“Bala? Are you alright?” Mercie gently took the mop from her hand.

“Yeah. I'm fine.” She forced a smile and followed her friend out the door.

“Are you sure, dear? If it's the girls bothering you. I can speak to them.”

She shook her head slowly, and inhaled the crisp summer air, “I don't know…”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone that has commented and given attention to my story. It means a lot! I've been stuggling lately to write and you guys give me inspiration! So thank you! ♥


	4. In Retrospect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part has suggestive scenes. Nothing too graphic or explicit which is why I kept the T rating. Please Let me know if you believe I should change it!  
> Thank you for reading!

_She was definitely glad he lived alone, she certainly couldn't remember ever being so vocal and currently she thought she'd die of embarrassment!_

_She'd lost track of how often they ended up like this. It started off simple, if one could call it that. Clothes stayed on, allowing only curious hands to wander. But she had gotten greedy. Wanted more. There was a part of her that wondered if he did as well, so often was he left to his own devices. And so when she'd asked, blunt and to the point as she so often did. He laughed_ _, whether in embarrassment or not she did not know. A nonchalant reply was all he gave, and things only escalated from there._

_He reappeared from underneath the covers, his hair a wild mess. The smuggest grin plastered on his face._

_She glared daggers his way. She’d kick him in the face if he said_ **_anything_ ** _about it._

_“You know, I was thinking.” He gave her a wink and lifted her foot up, massaging it before placing a kiss to the top._

_Her muscles twitched and she narrowed her eyes in warning. Her feet were the only things on her that were ticklish, and he'd found that out the hard way._

_More importantly, what could he have been thinking about?? Hopefully he didn't mean while he was— she huffed and untangled a strand of dark hair from around her fingers._

_He caught her eye and winked again which sent another wave of embarrassment through her. She lifted her foot to kick him but he tightened his hold on her ankle and tugged her leg over his shoulder._

_She yelped at the sudden proximity._

_He spoke so casually whilst she sat with her knee hooked over him. As if they were sitting across each other with a table between them. Her face felt so warm she thought she might burst. “My cousin is getting married in a few weeks. She's been running around like a headless chicken.” He sighed and pulled her other leg around his hip before looming over her. She wasn't sure who was more impressed with her flexibility as they progressed, herself or him. Though he did seem to like to test her. To twist her in new and exhilarating ways, and like water forms and molds around anything— she would take any shape if it meant pulling him closer._

_Wordlessly she tightened the leg around his hip and pressed herself tighter against him. She quite enjoyed the subtle way his breath caught when he continued to speak._

_“Would you come with me to her next rehearsal? I don't know if I'd be able to offer her much support on my own. Her best friend was supposed to do all of this for her but she ghosted her the last few meetings. Poor girl called me crying at three in the morning.”_

_She stared up at him for a moment. Her breathing finally slowed. At first she'd wanted to keep all the lights off— she couldn't bear to look into his calculating eyes when they were like this. Would he be able to see the terrible selfishness seeping from her own? He asked once if he could see her, it was randomly—while they studied together in the library. She nearly choked on her tea. But, she agreed— after all, it was the first thing he asked of her in_ that _regard. But she hated it, hated feeling so exposed, not in the physical sense of course, it was more as though he could read her inside and out. But she loved seeing him smile, the damned idiot… she eventually settled on a single dim light going forward…_

_But that light always seemed to accentuate his brilliance, and something deep in her chest would always twist until she was short of breath._

_She shook her head slightly and said with a sigh. “So you offered to help?” That was so like him. To offer his assistance in things he surely didn't have a clue about. Especially for his family. One thing she knew about him was that he'd cross a raging river for his family. Asking for nothing in return._

_“Naturally.”_

_She clicked her tongue and tried to ignore the way his hand wandered over her. “I don't know if I could be of any use myself.” She bit her lip. “I'm not good with socializing.”_

_“Nonsense.” He leaned in and placed a few bruising kisses along her collarbone— that was one of her rules. No marks on her neck or higher…_

_Thankfully he hadn't questioned her request, in fact there were a lot of things she requested that he didn't ask her to clarify. Could it be because he understood her so well? Or was he just as lost as she was? She didn't want to think about it. Not while the only thing left separating them was his thin sheet…_

_He looked up at her from underneath the thick curl of his lashes, a pout on his lips. “It's this weekend— the rehearsal. Don't make me go alone, my friend. I would most likely die without your support.” The way his hand pressed into her breast betrayed the innocent look in his eyes, and it grew difficult to form coherent thoughts._

_She inhaled deeply to keep her voice steady. She didn't need a repeat of earlier… “I highly doubt that, but since you asked so nicely—” He never asked anyone for help. People always sought him out if they needed something because they knew he'd comply. Anyway he could. So to have him asking_ **_her_ ** _to help him. Even if she hated parties. How could she say anything but yes? “I suppose I can endure it… For you.”_

 **_This_ ** _sent a visible blush to his cheeks and he buried his face in her neck._

_He whispered against her skin. “Then I'll pick you up this weekend. Or you could stay over? Whatever works.”_

_“Whatever works, huh?” She hummed to herself and started twisting her fingers in his hair again, tightening and pulling the lot of it through her fingers. “_ **_I_ ** _was thinking. Since you keep dragging me everywhere it’d be easier if I just crashed here with you. You um… mentioned wanting a roommate. And my lease is expiring…”_

_“That's perfect! It all works out then!” He kissed her neck with just enough pressure to make her heart quicken, but nothing more._

_A shudder passed through her. “Just do me a favor.” She murmured, and tugged on his hair a tad harder— the way that always got a reaction out of him, pulling him back so she could make eye contact. “Stop talking already.”_

_He laughed and turned to kiss her wrist, the way his eyes shone made her heart jump. “As you wish.~”_

~*~

“Bala! Do you like this dress or this one?” Hilda shook two small cocktail dresses in her face. Probably the tenth pair this afternoon.

“I don't know Hilda. Why can't I just wear some dress pants?” Balaiya sighed heavily and rubbed her face. Daydreaming! And about _that_ of all things. What had gotten into her! In public too! It wasn't like she was actually doing anything though, but still.

“Because that's all you ever wear for your job. Besides Dorothea wants us all to match for the photos!”

She sighed again and stood to look through the rack herself. “You know, all of that isn't for another few months…”

Hilda shook her head, her pigtails bouncing about. “You should know better than anyone not to have important stuff for the last minute—teacher lady!”

“Yeah… I know.”

The mall was a place that Balaiya admittedly hated going to. It was packed with so many people, often those were young people and she knew from experience that young people were not always pleasant to be around. Besides, in her defense— she _was_ a high school teacher. She didn't want to be around these young people any more than necessary, especially on her break. And though it was still early, Hilda had dragged her out to find _appropriate_ clothes for Dorothea's bachelorette party. She had thought her only saving grace was the company of Annette and Mercedes, but she'd forgotten how much they too loved shopping.

At least Mercedes didn’t allow the other women to be too harsh on her _mom_ jeans. Maybe it was because Mercedes had been dubbed the _mom_ of the group despite not having children of her own.

“I don't particularly look good in colors Hilda.” Balaiya said after finishing the rack and finding nothing she liked.

Hilda smacked her gum. “Lies! I saw how gorgeous you looked in those wonderful garbs from Almyra. Remember the photos??”

She sighed heavily. “Yeah. Just pick whatever you want and I'll wear it.”

“Really?” Hilda grinned widely.

Thankfully Mercedes walked over with a black dress adorned with a red ribbon around the waist. “It has red in it like Dorothea requested! I'm sure you'll look lovely in it!”

“That's perfect Mercedes!” She took the dress from her and held it in front of herself.

“Hm, I still think this one is sexier, but that one works too!” Hilda ushered them all to a register. “Good, because I'm hungry. Let's pay up and get something to eat.”

By the time they actually made it out to the food court Mercedes and Annette had enough bags to cover potentially the whole bachelorette party. Lucky for them they had found a good sale, not so lucky for their arms.

They quickly got their food and sat at a small square table.

Hilda cleared her throat and pulled out her phone. “Bala, I wanted to tell you. Dorothea and I found some interesting things about your friend.”

“Oh! Are you talking about her Prince Charming?” Annette giggled.

Balaiya shook her head with a frown. “P-Prince? No. Whatever Hilda said to you is bogus. We were friends, end of story.”

The redhead looked down with a sigh. “Oh but Felix is _my_ Prince Charming!”

Mercedes giggled behind her hand. “That's sweet.”

“Okay! So the news!" Hilda said, "We found out that Ferdie has done business with people in Almyra. On the downside, we couldn't find anything connecting that guy to a person named Khalid that fit the description… so potentially it's not related…Apparently one of his father's old friends had a daughter that ran away to Almyra, but we couldn't find anything on her either. His Father thought it inappropriate we were so nosy." She rolled her eyes.

Balaiya sighed, and started picking at her food. “I see. Thanks for trying but we should really drop it now.”

“Well, I think you should at least read that letter! Tell us what it says!” Hilda ripped into her sandwich.

“Letter?” She wracked her mind in search of what she could be talking about. Why was she drawing such a heavy blank?

“The one we found in that box! How could you forget already??” She gasped. “Don't tell me you threw it away!”

 _Oh_ , _that_ letter… “I didn't!” She protested. “I just haven't looked at it since then.”

“Hilda, if she doesn't want to. We shouldn't force her.” Mercedes interrupted. “How would you feel if you were in such a situation?”

“I'm just trying to help my girl out Mercie! She does so much for us! She never even asks for anything in return. The least we can do is try to make her happy.”

Balaiya pushed her food away, no longer having the appetite to eat. “I _am_ happy, Hilda! I just don't like going out all the time.”

“I'm sorry hon, but I don't believe you.” Hilda pointed a french fry at her. “You're in a funk. I can see the way you float around your dad's house. You only leave if I drag you out!”

She covered her face with her hands. Hilda was right, and she hated it. She was in a funk, she hated going out as of late. She constantly felt alone. She was happier sitting beside her Dad while he watched the game, a cigarette in his mouth. But even that had its own downsides.

Besides the awful smell, her Dad coughed a lot lately. So much more than usual, he always sounded in pain during his fits. More than once she'd run to get him water only for him to drop it on the floor. She felt helpless then, while she knelt beside him and rubbed his back. Helpless when he sat up only to light another. Helpless, when he seemed to find more solace in a cigarette than her company.

It was finally catching up to him wasn't it? And all she was doing was sitting and watching. Dad hid things well, but she was observant. It didn't take her long to piece it together. She knew how he still suffered, not just from the smoke. It sat there plain as day in the dusty books that covered that _one_ chair. In the faded paint that peeled from the kitchen walls. And she ignored it like she ignored the twist of her heart every time her friend had held her hand. Every time he said her name.

He missed Mom…

Much like she missed Khalid.

Oh if her brother could see her now, what would he think? Growing up she'd never been such a coward. She didn't care what people thought of her as long as he was with her.

But that was it wasn't it? He wasn't. It was his turn to be miles away. She couldn't help but wonder how alone did he feel when she left him? How alone did he feel now? Did he have anyone to comfort him? Like she…did.

Their birthday couldn't come soon enough. She'd be older, but he'd be home. And maybe not so alone.

“Girls, I think I'm going to head home.” She stood and did her best to smile. “I'm tired.”

They glanced at one another but thankfully didn't say anything.

“Okay, you're still coming over for movie night this Friday right?” Annette asked almost shyly.

Balaiya nodded once. “I'll be there. A promise is a promise.”

She perked up. “Okay good! I can't wait! We're going to be picking the movie out of a hat!”

“Sounds like a disaster.” She said and smiled again to show she meant it as a tease. “I'll see you girls later.”

Once out of their line of sight she picked up the pace and all but ran out to the parking lot, where her dad's beat up pickup truck sat waiting for her. She got in the truck and tossed her bags in to the passenger seat.

“What am I doing??” She glared at herself in the rear-view mirror. “Do I just need to find a hookup?!” She scowled and covered her face with her hands.

Pretending it never happened had gotten her so far, but now she was daydreaming! She wasn't safe awake or asleep.

She sighed heavily and started the truck.

Ever faithful, it sprang to life with little complaint.

As she backed out of the lot she caught sight of her face in the mirror again and scowled.

“Why didn't you keep in touch with him??” She snapped at herself. “

_All you would have done was hold him down! He was too nice to you. Far too nice. He deserved better than you. Better than you could have possibly offered. All you ever thought about was yourself._

“I didn't… I—” She bit her lip and blinked the blur away. Everything inside her chest burned. Who was she kidding? There were so many opportunities in the past she could have taken to reach out. To check in. But she was afraid, cowardly, so what did she do?

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she turned onto the freeway.

“I ran away.” She muttered under her breath and glanced back at herself in the mirror. “I have to read that letter…”

Maybe then she could finally put this issue to rest.

She did her best to keep focused on the road the rest of the way home, but her mind kept wandering to _what ifs_.

What if the letter makes her situation worse? How could it even make it better? Would it?

What if she finds him and something terrible happened to him? How would she cope? Would she even have the right to?

She shook her head as she pulled into her Dad's driveway. _Of course I would_. She thought grimly, they had been friends! She was in his cousin's wedding! She met his parents for new years! A frown tugged at the corner of her lips as she fumbled with her keys. She was close to his family.

Hadn't she been?

She dragged into the living room and tossed her bags on the couch. “Dad! I'm home.” The smell of cigarettes assaulted her senses and she reluctantly followed it. “How was your day, Dad? Did you win that bet with Alois?”

She turned the corner to the kitchen when coughing started. “Dad??”

The shattering of glass hit her ears before she saw what happened. But when she rushed into the room she saw him leaning over the counter, a pile of broken china at his feet.

“Dad?? Here, let me help.” Quickly, she pulled a chair over from their kitchen table and led him over to it.

“Can you—get that?” He gestured to the shards as his body was once again wracked by terrible coughs.

She handed him a glass of water and looked over her shoulder at the mess. “Of course.” Once she made sure he was relatively steady she reached for the dustpan. Her Dad's voice startled her away from it.

“No!” He pressed his hand against his chest and the other against his mouth.

“What is it Dad? What's wrong?” She asked carefully. She hardly ever heard Dad raise his voice. Instead of yelling at them as children he would just grab them firmly by the wrist or pick them up by the back of their shirt. So she was more than taken aback by his outburst.

“Just put it on the counter.” He mumbled and shakily reached for his lighter.

She sighed, why didn't she have the strength to take the damned thing away from him? “Okay.” She knelt down and carefully picked up every piece she could. Did he want to try and fix it? She shook her head, they had plenty of other dishes left. So why would be go through the trouble of—

Her eyes landed on a piece that had a tiny flower on it and instantly the smell of gingerbread cookies overwhelmed her senses.

.

It was a cold day, they’d been snowed in. So her Dad decided to build her brother and her a fort in the living room out of the couch cushions and a few blankets. They wrestled together and soon her brother declared themselves a knight and their Dad dragon. They proceeded to ‘defend’ the fort until a soft voice called them to the kitchen. They had raced each other to the table where four steaming cups sat. Two matching ones for herself and her brother. A large one with Dad's favorite sports team logo on it, and a delicate white one with a tiny flower…

.

Her throat went dry all of a sudden and she brushed her thumb gently over the design.

_‘This was mother's…’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments and encouragement! Much love to all of you! ♥♥


	5. Wish You'd Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special chapter!~  
> Usually I format the flashbacks in italics, but this whole chapter is set in the past so the formatting is kept normal!
> 
> (This chapter retains the same warnings as the last chapter.)

_Hopefully when you find this letter, my friend— you'll already be home! I'm not sure what I would do if you discovered it before then. There are a thousand things I wish I could tell you, but I lack the words and the courage needed to even begin. As you know I've asked if I could go with you. But you've been adamant I not “abandon my family” and I would truly never keep you from your dreams so, here we are._

_I wish you luck on your journey home, and wherever you may go henceforth... You have always been resilient, I know you'll succeed. Though I wish not to even mention it I find I am unable to do so. The time we've spent together has meant the world to me. You've shown me how to live and I thank you for that. I never truly trusted, until you, and I want you to know, though I've been more than selfish I never intended to take advantage of you. I hope you never felt that way, but my conscious won't let me rest if I never establish that._

_I know—_

“What are you doing, Khalid?”

”Ah!” he jumped, and quickly flipped the paper over. “Nothing~.”

Balaiya narrowed her eyes at him. “Mhm, sure.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer before giving her a wink and causally placing the paper in his drawer. “How goes the packing?”

 _Packing_ , he couldn't believe it. She was really leaving. And while he was truly excited for her, a part of him stung whenever she mentioned it. Now _he_ was talking about it as if it were nothing, when the very words tore up his throat like swallowing tiny razor blades.

“Ugh, I might be losing my mind with all of the last minute errands I've been running. Making lists, reading them over so many times only to realize I've missed something— so it's going great.” She sighed heavily and twisted her fingers into his hair. “I'm so tired of being hunched over my suitcases.”

He tilted his head back to lean on her chest. “Why don't you go for a walk? Breathe in the fresh air?” _Why don't you stay?_ He wanted to say instead, but he knew better. That conversation was one he constantly played in his head, but never said out loud. He wouldn't dare. Not when he knew what she'd be abandoning if she stayed. She had a life to return to, family, friends, and _now_ a good job! Who was he to stand in her way?

She started to braid a section of his hair. Not counting the one that framed his face, at this point he already had two others scattered about. “A walk? I just walked back from the corner store. I don't think another one will do me any better.”

“Well, are you hungry? I can make you something.”

She hummed quietly, her nails absently scratching lightly down his neck.

He sighed. Did she know how absolutely wrecked he has been the last few days? How utterly devastated he already was, and she hadn't even left yet! Though one of the more innocent things she's done, it still tore him to pieces.

He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, he only meant to do that and nothing more. But she must have taken it as an invitation, because she leaned down and kissed him square on the mouth— just a breath longer than what would be considered chaste.

She pulled back just enough to speak. Each syllable ghosted against his lips, like a finger beckoning into the dark. “I think I am. I don't want anything specific. Just make your favorite.”

He blinked up at her. _His_ favorite? Why couldn't he think of what that could possibly be? He could only think of dishes _she_ loved. “Okay.” He murmured softly, his voice suddenly hard to find.

“Afterward, maybe we could go to the beach? One last time— I don't live anywhere close to the ocean… and the waters here are so clear and beautiful.”

“Sure.” He glanced at his dresser where a shell sat that she found from the first time he took her there. She had been so excited, her eyes might as well have been glowing.

“You're the best!” She swiveled his chair around so he was facing her. “Luckily, I don't have to be at the airport until noon, so I don't have to go to bed while the sun's out.”

He blinked up at her for a moment, slightly thrown off by his new orientation. “Yeah, didn't you mention you had to be there at 3 am when you first arrived here?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It was terrible. Lucky for me everything seems to be working out this time!”

 _‘Right, working out…’_ He forced a smile and rolled the chair closer to her. “And I'm happy for you. See? I told you everything would work out for you! And you didn't believe me.” He shook his head and _tsked._ “Have more confidence in me, my friend!”

 _His friend?_ Was it his fault they were the way they are? A couple in every way but in name? His stomach churned. How many opportunities did he have to set things right? To demand for what he wanted?? And yet—

“It's not that, silly.” She grabbed his face in both her hands and leaned in close. “I trust you. I have confidence in you, I would bet my life on you.” She closed the distance between them for the second time that morning. But this kiss was different. Soaked with false meaning. If she knew the way his heart screamed, would she kiss him like this anyway? So deeply, and slowly. As if he was hers to play with?

But that was it, wasn't it? He _was._ He never told her otherwise. Never fought against it. He was a coward that hid behind false smiles, and fake laughter. A scoundrel that took what he could get. Desperate and starved. If she knew how much his tongue lied, would she hold him anyway? So gently, and softly. As if he was hers to keep?

She pulled away, taking with her a chunk of his heart and all the air in his chest.

“I just like when everything goes smoothly.” She smiled and gave him another kiss, this one quick and simple. “I should probably let you get to it then huh? I can buy us something to drink at the beach later!” She grinned and spun around on her heel.

He watched her go, dumbfounded by the sudden loss of contact. _'Get to what?’_ he thought for a moment. Had he missed something— the food! Sighing, he stood and moved over to the kitchen, where she sat atop one of the counters.

“What are you doing up there?” He asked, raising a brow.

“I'm going to watch you!” She grinned again and handed him a pan.

He took it wordlessly and turned to the spice cabinet. There were so many things he could make, but deciding on that one thing felt like such a laborious task. Mainly because, this would most likely be the last meal he'd make for her. He reached into the cabinet and took down a few spices, but kept one of the small containers in his hand. _'I should send her with some of this. She sure does love it…’_ He glanced at his other cabinet— where he kept his tea. She loved tea too. He could—

“Khalid?”

He jumped internally and glanced over to find her standing awfully close. “Hm?”

“Are you okay?” She mumbled, and carefully took the jar from his hand, setting it on the counter.

_Don't leave…_

“Huh? Yeah. Why?” He said casually, as if his world wasn't crumbling around him.

“Well, you look…troubled.” She reached for his hand again but he stepped away before she could touch him. In an attempt to hide his recoil, he blindly reached into the cabinet again.

“I'm fine, my friend. Don't worry about me.” He forced another smile.

She narrowed her eyes but thankfully dropped the issue.

A part of him, a feeble and pathetic part— wished she hadn't. Wished she pressed on. Maybe then he'd have the courage to tell her. And though he rehearsed it a million times, he didn't know where he would begin.

“Why don't you go over your checklist again? I'll let you know if I catch anything you missed and we can pick it up on our way back from the beach!” This time, the smile came easier. Like an actor after a warm up. He just needed to keep up the act until this time tomorrow.

Because then he wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

“Alright. Let's see…” She hummed a tune he often sang and climbed back on top of the counter.

He listened diligently as she listed off the things she was packing, things she would need, and things she was leaving behind. Throughout the whole ordeal, he kept hoping she'd make some sort of mention of him. After all, she _was_ leaving him behind. His chest tightened. Did it make him any less than he already felt? Wanting acknowledgement? But of course, he deserved it. To feel so terribly. He didn't have the courage to say anything. He knew it wasn't really a good idea to— do what they did— but he never refused, he took whatever he could get. Did it mean he respected her less for complying? For adhering to her wishes?

His heart ached at the thought. It had been her that had asked, her that had initiated each kiss— at least the ones on her lips. Those weren't rare, but each time a part of him broke. Because it reminded him of what he couldn't have. What she had made clear before she didn't want. Yet for some reason, she was fine with giving them out. Sometimes casually, and sometimes with enough fire to scorch his insides.

She was a monsoon of strength and courage, and he barely a drop of rain in comparison.

“Khalid? Hellooo?” She tugged on his braid.

“Yes?” He handed her a dish, impressed with his ability to complete such a nice looking meal when his mind had been elsewhere.

“You weren't listening.” She stuck her lip out in a pout.

“Of course I was, my friend.” He served himself and joined her on the counter.

“What did I say I needed then?” Despite the obvious steam coming from the dish. She still shoveled spoonfuls in her mouth, wincing at the heat.

He reached over her and filled a glass of water, then handed it to her. “Patience. Or someone to feed you so you won't burn your insides.”

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes and gulped down half of the glass. Surprisingly, she handed him her spoon and looked up at him expectantly.

With a smirk he scooped up some food and blew on it gently. “You said you still need to pick up some new hairbands, because and I quote:” He grinned and changed his voice into a terrible mock of her own. “ _My last one is breaking and I can't be on such a long flight without some new hair ties!”_

“I don't sound that whiney!” She protested with a glare.

He smirked again and popped the spoon into her mouth. “Yes you do.”

“No, you do!” She yelled, mouth still full. She finished and continued. “Especially when you're cold! Gosh, your car is always such a sauna! No air conditioning! Ever!”

He scoffed and held another spoonful by her mouth, to which she accepted without hesitation. “I always turn the air on for you!” He used the edge of the spoon to clean the corners of her mouth.

“Which is where the whining comes in.” She declared smugly and opened her mouth again.

This time he put the spoon in his own mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She _was_ right…

But in his defense, being too warm was so much better than being too cold!

“Hey!” She laughed and snatched the spoon away. “You have your own plate.” She resumed eating herself.

He shook his head, and finished his food in silence. Briefly, he thought about riling her up again. Saying something stupid, or something funny. Anything just to keep his mind occupied. But he didn't want to get her too angry and cancel her wish to go out later.

So he settled on staying silent, whilst she hummed his favorite song.

* * *

She was tossing her bag in his car way before he even got his shoes on at the door.

“Come on slowpoke! It's well past noon already!” She yelled from the passenger side.

“I'm coming, I'm coming, sheesh.” He grumbled and jogged over to the car, groaning when he buckled in to find the AC blasting.

She gave him a smug look. As if daring him to complain. 

He didn't. He just stuck his tongue out at her and drove off to the boardwalk.

As it turned out, her idea of drinks ended up being a snow cone.

“Flavored ice? When you said drink, I was hoping for—I dunno— something I could _drink_.” He sighed and stepped away from the vendor to see if anything else caught his eye.

“Baby.” She muttered and elbowed his side. “Do you want some milk too?” She snickered.

“Hmm, you know what? A milkshake sounds fantastic!” He nudged her towards a small shop. “A promise is a promise, my friend!”

“Fine.” She laughed and tugged him by the arm. “But don't think you're going to stay outside while I order for you!”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” Despite everything, her joy was infectious, and he couldn't help the smile that filled his face.

She ended up getting herself something too and dragged him outside by the arm. “Let’s pick up my hair ties, then I want to go out by the water.”

He followed close behind her, not at all surprised when they stopped at nearly every store along the way. Not to buy anything, but she was an avid window shopper. Besides, he didn't mind. Anything to drag out the day.

By the time she actually _did_ manage to get her coveted hair ties, the sun was nearing the horizon, and Khalid felt nothing but dread when he realized as such.

“Where did the day go?” He mumbled with a sigh.

“Hm, to me it felt rather long.” Balaiya said at his side and rushed ahead of him. “C’mon, I still want to hang out by the water.” She beckoned him forward with a wave of her hand.

Like a magnet drawn to another, he was already in motion to follow. He could care less if it started raining! If she wanted to be outside, he'd be right there too— if she wished it.

He hung back behind her while she walked along the edge of the beach, every so often, a wave would rush up and slap their feet. Whenever a particularly larger tide would wash up to her knees she'd gasp in surprise, only to turn back to him with a wide grin.

Each time he offered her one in return, but the further the sun sank, the heavier he felt.

Occasionally she ran up to him and handed him some shells she picked up, just so he could look at them.

When the sky was awash with brilliant reds and golds she stopped her trek and set her things down in the sand.

“Remember when I first went to the beach?" She glanced over at him with a smile. “I got such a terrible burn.”

He shook his head. “You looked like a lobster.” Images of her reddened skin flashed through his memory, and the guilt came with it. “I felt so bad— I didn't even think about getting you sunscreen…”

“That was my fault. But! I've learned a lot since then.” She held her arms out and turned to face him. “I've even managed to tan while living here!” She laughed slightly. “Wait till my brother sees me.”

“Eh, you're still white.” He grinned and dodged a blow aimed at his arm.

“Whatever!” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the water and frowned. “I forgot my swimsuit.”

“Why didn't you mention it earlier? I could have gotten you another, or went back to get yours. Whichever.”

She shrugged. “I just thought of it.” Sighing she reached for the edges of her shirt and pulled it over her head.

“What are you doing??” Though he'd seen her undress too many times to count, something compelled him to look away. It couldn't be because he was a gentleman at heart, no he was far from that. If he were, he wouldn't have seen her undress in the first place. Could it be because they were in public?

“Getting undressed.” She stated matter of factly. “I don't have a change of clothes.” She turned to him as she pushed down her shorts. “Stop acting like you've never seen my boobs before!”

“I'm not!” He protested, cheeks burning. “I'm just—” He sighed and held his sweater out in front of her, to shield her from possible onlookers. “Balaiya! There's still people out!”

She laughed softly, and he couldn't help but peek back at her from over the rim of his sweater.

“They're so far away they look like dots, Khalid,” she smiled, and motioned with her head to the waves behind her, the last rays of the sun framed her silhouette like a golden halo. “If you need me, I'll be over there.” She winked and ran off into the waves.

“You're crazy!” He called after her. But he knew the truth— she was brave, brash, and blunt. But so incredible, intelligent, and independent.

“You can stay there if you want!” She yelled from the water, a grin visible on her face. “But if you want to join me, you have to drop ‘em!”

His face grew hotter in embarrassment, he wasn't normally so self conscious. So why was he so bothered by it now?. “I'll just guard your stuff…” Sighing, he sat down by the haphazard pile that was her clothes.

“Baby!”

He rolled his eyes and placed his sweater on the sand then folded her clothes on top of it, placing her shirt and pants on top of her undergarments.

“Am not!”

She didn't respond, in fact when he looked over at the waves he couldn't see her. Panic shot into his stomach.

“Bala??” He jumped to his feet and hurried to the water's edge. Terrifying scenarios filled his head. Did she get caught by a wave current? Did a strong wave push her under?

A second later, her head popped out of the surface and she threw a ball of seaweed at him.

He sighed in relief, feeling more than a little stupid. “Ha, very funny.” He grumbled and dodged her projectile.

“You're lucky it wasn't a rock! I'd have knocked you out!” She shouted, swimming closer.

“I still would have dodged it. Besides, I have a better aim than you, my friend.”

She opened and closed her hand to mock him. “Yeah, yeah— Mr. I won a gold medal in the school's archery competition.”

“It’s a nice medal.” He confirmed with a nod.

“Yeah, I've heard.” She attempted a splash at him.

“I worked hard for it you know.” He added proudly.

“I know. I'm proud of you.” She managed to flick water in his face the second time.

They'd had this conversation before, each time she always managed to bring heat to his face when she praised him in some way. This time was no different, and he was grateful that the sunset altered the lighting around him.

He returned to her things and watched her in silence. Now and then she would do some crazy tricks and all he would see were her feet.

After dusk started to set in she moved closer to the shore to speak. “Khalid, you know what would be great?”

“What?”

“If you joined me.”

Why was he expecting something different? “What if someone steals your clothes?” He protested.

She raised an eyebrow. “Then I'd have to go back naked.”

“That's what we're trying to avoid.” He called back.

“You can just give me your shirt if that happens!”

He sighed. There was really no fazing her was there?

“I won't look.” She offered after a long moment of just the gentle waves echoing in the space between them.

“ **Fine**.” He grumbled. He could never say no to her.

She grinned and turned around while he removed his clothes and joined her in the blasted water.

Why was he so reserved about the whole thing?? He was usually the one encouraging her to _let loose_ , yet here he was acting like a feeble lamb. He hated it. What had gotten into him?

Her voice came from behind him and he jumped back, startled. “Welcome to the party, _my friend_.” The last phrase rolled off her tongue like a purr, and sent a shiver crawling down his spine.

“What party? The one the fish are going to have when they grab at my bits?” He warily looked around the water, and though the night was well lit by the plethora of stars that flickered above them— it was still hard to see **in** the water.

She laughed, and splashed him. “They're not going to bite you.”

“You really don't know that.” He countered.

She eyed him for a moment then moved closer to him. “I guess I don't.” She said with a shrug.

“That's so reassuring.” He mumbled and looked over her briefly.

Big mistake.

She looked ethereal in the bright light the moon cast on her. As if she were meant to bask in it's glow. He inhaled sharply when she reached for him, each drop off water that fell from her hand were like stones as they hit the surface. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled him—almost shyly— towards her. So unlike how she usually moved.

“Are you alright?” He asked her quietly, afraid to disrupt whatever vulnerability he saw swirling in her eyes.

“Yeah…” She chewed her bottom lip and slipped her other hand in his hair. Her thumb pressed small circles into his head. “Khalid?” Her voice came out in a waver that sparked worry in his chest.

“Yes?” He breathed out quietly.

There was a ringing in his ears, which only seemed to increase the longer she held him there. Why wasn't she continuing? What did she have to say? His heart was also threatening to leap out of his throat, and he feared with all the commotion going on within him he'd miss what she had to say.

After looking over him for probably the hundredth time since she said his name she finally spoke. “Can you…kiss me?”

Something in him was surely going to burst. Strangely enough, the first thing that came to mind was: **why**?

Why was she asking him?

Why now?

Why while he stood with his back curved painfully so he wouldn't stand too close.

Why while she held his face captive?

Did he really have a choice?

But that vulnerability in her face hadn't left. In fact it shone so much brighter now that he wasn't sure if he was just seeing his own emotions reflected back at him.

She loosened her grip on him and looked down. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't—”

He kissed her fiercely.

He'd never been so forward with her, But he kept his hands away from her, afraid of what he would do.

She only tightened her grip, gasping out a breath before diving in deeper, pulling him closer and parting her lips.

She tasted of salt and the smallest hint of strawberries. His hands itched to hold her, and his body burned for more.

He was almost relieved when she pulled away. Sudden enough for the sound to pass his ears. Like the snap of someone's fingers.

She licked her lips slowly, brows furrowed. “We should get back.” She mumbled, avoiding eye contact and rushed for the shore

He probably would have stayed out there in the waves had she not dragged him behind her by the wrist.

The ringing in his ears continued even after they were dressed and clicking in the seatbelts of his car. Automatically, he drove with the AC on and the windows rolled down, the turns home happened almost on their own.

He was nearly deaf by the time they got back to the apartment, and she didn't even say a word when she flew past him to jump in the shower.

By the time he walked in their room after he'd finished cleaning up, he felt numb, and more than a little cold.

 _Their_ room? Was it really? It had been his at first. Though for the past year, she would rest her head nowhere else. Nearly everything on top of his dresser _had_ been hers. Now it was empty, and barren. Everything packed away, and sealed tight. He was also ninety percent sure some of the shirts she threw in her suitcase had been his at one point.

The room was almost completely dark, save for the sliver of moonlight shining through the crack in the curtains.

Was the room always so... empty?

So much of everything was gone now, it felt like he was standing in the wrong room. The only thing that signified that he was indeed in the right room was her figure sitting on the edge of the bed with the blanket draped over her head like a cloak, and her knees tucked into her chest.

He wanted to tell her to go to sleep. While she did need to be up tomorrow, she doesn't necessarily need to be there until noon—though she should still be there early.

Instead he sat down beside her in silence, with a thousand words whirling through his head. But that's all they were, words. What did they even mean? What are they supposed to mean? What does he _want_ them to mean? He had an idea, but he was too afraid to say it. Too afraid to get hurt.

If his mentor from childhood could see him now, surely he'd laugh. Nader was a brave force of a man, always encouraged the best out of him. He helped kick him out of the terrible rebellious stage of his youth. Sometimes quite literally. If he could see him now, surely he'd scoff at his cowardice.

She turned to him, slow, and deliberate. Much of her face was hidden in the darkness that surrounded them. The only thing he could really see was the glint of her eyes as they beautifully caught the moonlight from the window.

He had to strain to hear her.

“Thank you for taking me,” she mumbled, “to the beach. I had fun.”

His mouth moved, but he barely caught his own words. “I'm glad.”

She scooched closer. “Are you okay?”

_Of course not._

“Yeah. I'm just…tired.” He said with a sigh.

“Me too.”

After another moment she slipped under the covers.

He laid back, but stayed on top of them. His bed wasn't really big, and if he did use the blankets too, he would no doubt brush her arm with his in the small space. It wasn't ever a problem, he opened his eyes many times in the past with the imprint of her shirt in his cheek.

But for the first time, _ever_ , he felt like he shouldn't be near her.

Why didn't he just go to his couch? Yeah, it'd be cramped, but it had to be better than this restlessness he was feeling. He didn't know how long he stared at his empty ceiling, but he was really considering moving, he couldn't sleep anyway. He was focusing too much on _not_ pulling her into his arms... 

But like always she had other plans.

“Khalid? Are you awake?”

She was whispering, so she really didn't know if he was awake or not, and he hadn't seen her move to actually check. He could pretend he _was_ asleep, maybe even turn his back to her.

“Yeah.” He turned on his side to face her, thankfully his back was to the window so he’d be veiled in darkness.

Whatever light did reach them was drawn to her face. Her brows were furrowed, but he couldn't make out too much besides the way her teeth worried her lip.

“Can you…kiss me?" She seemed to trip over her words when she hurriedly added on, _"Please?_ ”

There it was again, but this time— perhaps for the first time, she sounded so scared. He was torn between ignoring her, and complying. It wasn't too late. He reasoned, he could still play off being asleep. He could still pretend. He reasoned as he set his forearms down on either side of her head. Their noses nearly touching from the proximity. The problem though, was that he wanted to, he really did, but—

“Why?”

He didn't realize he actually asked her until he saw her eyes widen. Heard the shake in her voice.

“I… don't know.”

She didn't know? How could she not know? He wanted to be angry. She always knew what she wanted, didn't she? She would have it under any circumstances. Wouldn't she?

Despite everything, despite the little voice telling him _no._ Despite the ache in his own chest. A smile snuck onto his face.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge how often she actually said that to him. How often he held her while she cried. He cared for her so much, and he never minded any of it. She was his closest friend, he adored her, he—

“That's okay, my friend. Whatever you need, I'm— you can always...call me.”

Because, by this time tomorrow, they'd be a world apart... 

Slowly, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and leaned down. He pressed his lips softly into the column of her neck, a shiver passed through her so intensely he felt the goosebumps on her skin.

He trailed around her jawline slowly, then moved up, and placed a single kiss to her cheeks then one on her forehead. Each featherlight.

Her lips were trembling when he brushed his own over hers, and he carefully cupped her face in his hand, finally closing the gap between them.

This time was a stark contrast from the one on the beach. He held her face gently, as if she would shatter if he wasn't too careful. Delicately, because to him— no matter what— she _was_ precious, and if she asked him, he'd cross the ocean for her.

After what felt like a lifetime, and simultaneously too soon she slowly pulled away, but her eyes moved over to his bedside table.

He understood easily, and was away for only a moment but he was pathetically eager to drown in her again. The moment she hooked her leg around him he was lost.

Deep in an undertow of heated desire, and wanton sighs.

Every movement was different, every touch was both electric, and shy. Filled with quiet whispers of _is this okay?_ And a countless number of breathless mantras of _please._ So very different from their first time together, and far too overwhelming.

Everything about it was slow— so very slow— every intake of breath that dripped off her lips only drew him deeper into everything that was her.

Just so he wouldn't completely lose himself, he pulled back to take a breath. A single silken thread spooling from their lips caught the light, and his eyes trailed up to her face, a part of him freezing when he noticed the glimmer by her eyes.

Before he could find the words needed to ask, she shook her head, a smile painting her lips.

Slowly, she carded her fingers through his hair, pulling him down to mold her lips back against his with a haunting whisper of _: don't stop._

If he were a better man, he would have pulled away anyway. Perhaps even stopped all together. But if he were, he wouldn't be here in the first place.

He was addicted to the way she pulled him in, as if she never wanted to let him go. Her grip tightening on him in every way possible.

There was so much he wanted to tell her, because finally he knew what the words were that he had been searching for.

He _loved_ her.

He wasn't sure when it had started, it could have been all along, but he'd missed the opportunity to say anything, and his heart _ached._

After all, it'd be selfish of him to tell her now.

Selfish to tell her when she was leaving.

He was selfish either way. For taking so much, and giving so little.

There were things that passed her lips in short gasps. Things in her mother tongue he couldn't quite recognize.

But the hushed tones of her voice beckoned him in further, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if she lied as much as he did.


	6. Do You Remember?

_—where you're going has no place for me. If you had wished it so, I would have found a space. In any case that issue has passed, and in the morning I'll be waving my goodbyes. I can't believe you're really leaving. It feels like just yesterday I met you for the first time. Would you believe me if I said I feel as if I've known you forever?_

_I'm slipping this letter with your luggage, along with a box of my favorite things. I hope you can look back on your time here with as much fondness as I do. Once you are settled in back home, do give me a call! It would be great if we can keep in touch, I can even try to visit you in a few months. I have family in Fódlan, so I might be able to stay with them? I know Fódlan is big, but maybe we can meet in the middle? I’ll make sure my number stays the same it's always been, and never forget:_

_Whatever you need, you can always call me._

  
  


_— Khalid_

_P.S: Know that wherever the stars may take you, there will always be a place for you beside me._ _  
_  
  


.

.

She had to have read the letter a thousand times by now. He thought **_he_** was selfish?? She covered her face with her hands. How long did he believe such a thing? Was it from the very beginning? She rolled over and buried her face into her pillow. Hoping to suffocate.

She thought back on the contents of the box, he'd given her nearly everything she'd used or things he had given her. _His_ favorite things?

That was _her_ seashell.

Bangles he'd let _her_ wear…

Photos of _her_ …

If his number was still the same after all this time…

She sat up so quickly she got dizzy. Blindly she reached for her phone and quickly opened up the keypad— she froze.

Would he really keep his number the same just for her? Did she even remember it? He'd asked both in person and in this letter for her to tell him when she got home. She'd done the exact opposite. If that wasn't a slap in the face to their friendship… Not to mention the texts she ignored before changing her number…

Dread bubbled inside her but she slowly input a number, then another, each number echoed in her head in time with her screaming heartbeat, until the full sequence stared back at her brightly.

Her finger hovered over the _call_ button but she moved no further. How could she?

If he answered, what would she say?? _‘Hi sorry I blatantly ignored your attempts to reach out to me. I was running away from you because you were too nice?’_

That sounded so stupid.

If he recognized her voice, what would he do?

 _Again_ , she wondered, what if he didn't?

“Stop being a coward Bala.” She muttered with a scowl, but that's all she could do. Guilt tied her down so heavily it made her want to scream. He may have kept his number the same… but she hadn't. She took the first chance she could to change it, to start over. Start new. What if he tried to call her, only to be met with a dial tone?

She was a different person now. She'd been away from him longer than she'd known him. They were young, she realized that now. Twenty three felt so mature, but as she sat now on the cusp of her twenty-ninth year, huddled over language dictionaries beneath a sky of glowing plastic stars she realized now how foolish she had been. How foolish she still was. She had tried so hard to move forward, to swim through against the raging stream of life that she failed to realize the simple things.

He had opened up her eyes to a world of new things, shone her how easy life really could be. Tossed her a ring to hold on to, shared his boat with her— his life. Offered her his support through kind smiles, lazy smiles, gentle smiles. And she took it all in, thirsty for anything she could get her hands on. And when she had her fill, she tossed herself back in the stream to drown again, claiming independence, grasping for something she left behind. Chasing after something she didn't know she had no idea what it was.

Why didn't she keep in touch?

She looked back down at the phone and inhaled slowly. It was now or never, and she'd tried never, it didn't work.

Her phone rang. The sound startled her so much she almost dropped the small device. Like the hurried mess she was she scrambled to check the ID, for a moment— her heart stopped.

The screen read: _Leth._

Deflating like a worn balloon she quickly pressed the answer key, what was she expecting?

“Hello?”

“Hi, Bala.”

She sighed. “Hi.”

Silence greeted her on the other end for a few moments. “What’s wrong?” He asked her simply.

“Nothing.” She covered her face with her hand. Of course he would know something was wrong. “How are you?” She asked in an attempt to distract him. But things like that rarely worked on her Leth, that wouldn’t stop her from trying of course. “How are things in Sreng?”

Something that sounded like dishes clanked around on his end. “Good, our program ended smoothly. Depending on how the paperwork goes through I might be able to head home sooner.”

“Oh that's good.” It would definitely be nice to have him home. “Don't rush though.” She stuck her feet in her slippers and made her way downstairs.

“Mhm, and you? How have you been? Have you been able to settle smoothly enough?”

She walked into the kitchen and took out a bag of cookies, labeled by hand in Mercedes's looped cursive. “Yup. No hiccups.”

More silence, followed by a sigh. “You're stressed.” It was a statement, not a question, he always seemed to be able to tell with her. Then again, getting evicted was never a walk in the park. So he must assume she was lying.

“Ah, of course I am. I lost my place, Leth.” She shoved some cookies in her mouth.

“So you lied?”

Annoyance jabbed her in the side. “What? About what?”

“Bala, you said there were no hiccups,clearly that’s not the case.”

She could hear someone whispering to him on his end every now and again, and for some reason that really irked her. “Leth, the retreat to my childhood room went dandy! I've been feeling—” She inhaled sharply.

Feeling pathetic, worthless. A failure.

He didn't deserve this, she was taking out her frustration on him for no reason. He'd called her to check in on her and she was grateful for it. “Just— be safe okay? I'll see you when you get home.”

“…Alright, same for you. How's Dad?”

“He's…” She didn't want to tell him about his current state. How lately he's been smoking more than a chimney, how she hears him coughing so intensely at night she's afraid he might choke. “Chugging along.” She did her best to sound casual, but the silence that followed told her that he wasn't on board.

“I see. Well, take care Bala. I'll see you soon enough.”

“Okay, see you.”

When she finally hung up the phone, her cheek was sweaty and a few strands of hair stuck to her face. She didn't know how long she stared at the wall, but when her Dad's heavy footsteps announced his arrival to the room— she greeted him with a smile.

“Morning Dad.”

“Mornin’ Kiddo.” He shuffled past her and poured himself some coffee. “Did you want any?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Sure.”

He moved over to the table and set a mug down across from her.

She thanked him and moved the mug closer to her. “Have you heard from Leth? He just called me this morning, says he might come home early.”

“Yeah, I talked to him last night. He said he’s bringing a friend back with him. It’s been too long since he’s been home.” He dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a lighter.

She frowned deeply at him. Smoking in the house was something that he used to never do, but this new habit had started within the last few months of her being back home, and it just kept getting worse. At first she was just ignoring it, but now? It bothered her. More so than anything. Her frown only increased when she fully processed what her her Dad had said. Leth was bringing someone back with him? Why hadn’t he mentioned it to her while she was on the phone with him?

Granted, she hadn’t given him much of an opportunity to let him.

She sighed heavily and quickly went over the few people he would tell her about in passing, but she couldn’t decide on who. Despite being twins, she hadn’t talked much with him since they started their professional lives. They kept in touch, sure but not like she wanted to.

And ever since she moved back home, she was reaching out even less so.

“Who is he bringing?” She asked quietly.

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply on it before answering. “One of his coworkers. She started the program with him last year. We should do something fun together when they get here.”

She resisted the urge to cover her nose. “Oh…yeah, that will be fun.”

“That reminds me. How about you Bala? That program you did— phew— is it running up on six years now? Do you still keep in touch with anyone?”

“Oh. No…I don’t.” She glanced back at her phone and hesitantly opened up the key pad again. The number was still there. Staring at her.

“Well that’s a shame.” He took another drag from his cigarette.

“There was someone though…”She sighed heavily and slouched back in her chair. “But, I stopped talking to them as soon as I got back home.”

“Is there a specific reason?”

“Well, I don’t really know…I guess…I was caught up in work?” She looked down at her phone and started backspacing the number. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t a good idea, no matter how much she wanted to. Logically, this was a bad decision, wasn’t it? She allowed her friends to stuff her with hope for something that just wouldn’t be a good idea realistically.

“You weren't really close to them?”

She pursed her lips together when memories flooded her with exactly how close they had been. _Too_ close.

“Not really…we were friends. Study partners.” She lied. Or was it? It wasn't a lie, that much was true, but she could hardly see a scenario where telling Dad that she slept with said study partner— on a daily— was a good idea.

“It happens to all of us.” Jeralt said with a sigh. “But, you have the girls. Speaking of, how are they doing?”

Pushing her phone back into her pocket she looked up at him with a shrug. “They’re all doing alright. Hilda’s been very adamant about getting everything ready for Dorothea’s wedding and all that comes with it. I got my dress for the bachelorette party a few weeks ago, but I still don’t have the dress _for_ the wedding itself. You know, since I’m a bridesmaid.” She rubbed her hand over her eyes. Despite not doing much the last few days, she was tired. Nothing seemed to give her energy lately, no matter how much coffee she drank.

“Eh, good luck with that, Bala. These events can get pretty hectic.” He pressed the cigarette butt in the ashtray between them. “On that note, I haven’t seen you in a dress since your head barely reached the table.” He chuckled to himself. “You used to have the cutest bows in your hair…”

She smiled slightly, but on seeing the frown that took over his face she too lost her smile. She stopped wearing dresses and bows after her mother passed away.

Her mother whom she barely remembered.

Her mother whose delicate touch still haunted the walls of her childhood home.

They’d lost her so suddenly none of them were prepared for the fallout, and still nearly two decades later, the briefest mention of her still soured the room. More specifically, Dad's mood.

She needed to change the topic, if not the weight of it all would crush her. But what could she possibly talk about?. She reached into the bag of cookies she’d been working on for some time only to find it empty.

Jeralt laughed shortly. “Wow, you sure finished those quickly. Did Mercedes make them?”

“Yeah. She did.” Sighing heavily, she cumbled up the paper bag and tossed it into the bin that sat in the corner of the room.

“How’s she doing? It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her.”

“She's alright. As sweet as always.” Talking about her friends was usually a good escape, because topics surrounding their immediate family always ended with someone feeling choked. Whether it was known to the other person or not.

“She started seeing this guy that was visiting her shop daily. Can you believe that? I was skeptical at first but he seems really nice. I’ve been taking her to her dates actually. But lately she's been letting him pick her up.”

“This guy went to her shop daily?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he spent a lot of money at her place. I guess he had a pretty rowdy teen life. Lucky for him it seems he's learned from it. Mercie can’t stop talking about him, I’m happy she’s happy.” It was true. Mercedes had been through so much over the years that she’d known her. No one deserved to be happy more than Mercie, In her honest opinion. She deserved happiness in her life, especially when she spent so much of her free time giving back to others. Often receiving nothing in return.

She sat up in her chair, lifted by the conversation. “You know how Mercie likes to volunteer at her church?” Jeralt nodded and she continued, the smile reappearing on her face. “Well, somehow she convinced him to go with her for these events. I find it amusing because from what I know about him, at least about how he used to be, he wouldn’t be caught dead doing things like that.”

Jeralt scratched at his beard and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think she had to try very hard to _convince_ him, Bala.” His eyes settled on the book covered chair. “I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this, maybe you did at one point with your previous relationship, but love can make a person do just about anything.”

 _Love?_ She bit the inside of her cheek. Did she ever say that to anyone she was in a relationship with?

“It can be simple.” He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. “Simple things are usually the most telling. Did you know your mother owned a flower shop before we got together?”

Her heart skipped and she looked up at him quickly. He never volunteered information like this, but then again, she was always too afraid to ask. “I didn’t” She whispered, scared she’d stop him from continuing.

To her relief he continued, and he said more about her than he had for as long as he could remember. “I used to go there everyday just to see her…Can _you_ believe it took me weeks to even get the courage to say something to her? Besides what was necessary for the flower I bought every time.”

“You must have spent a lot of money on flowers, huh?” She hadn’t expected the conversation to veer in this direction, but she supposed this was one of those times where talking about her friends brought up something else.

“That I did.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “The flowers always died pretty quickly. I was always so terrible at taking care of them. But when she finally did agree to go out with me, I took her to the best places I could afford. Imagine my surprise when the first place she asked me to go to with her was an animal shelter.”

Her eyebrows rose. Based on what she could remember, her mother was sweet. Though she never put much thought into that, she was her mother, wasn’t she supposed to care about her children? But the story her Dad was telling echoed many similarities to her friend, and Mercie was as sweet and kind as anyone could be.

“She also hated being cold. I always made sure I warmed the car up before she got in it during the winter.” He laughed and sat up to look at her, a twinkle in his eye was present. One she couldn’t even remember seeing. “Oh, but the summer was the worst. We always drove around without the air on. I think she wanted to air fry me.”

_I always turn the air on for you!_

She felt color fill her cheeks, why would she remember that of all things? Though it _was_ a conversation they had often, because she so liked to tease him so they often bickered over it. But that was just a normal reaction between _friends,_ right?

“She loved to cook too, she was so good at it. I became her un-official taste tester.”

“Did you ever taste anything bad that she made?” She asked in an attempt to keep the conversation going, but at the same time her heart started to pound faster and her head started to pulse. Why was she feeling so uneasy?

“No, never. There were some things I liked less than others, but if she made it I ate it.” He examined his knuckles for a moment and turned his gaze off to the side.

“Did you have a favorite food?” It was an easy question, and though she wanted to know more about her mother, she also wanted the conversation to recede back into safer waters. Because for some reason, it was getting harder to breathe.

“A preference maybe, but you know this already.”

“Ah, anything with meat?” She asked, forcing her voice to sound light.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, but you know I love to fish… Whenever I caught something good, well she would always make it better.”

Now would be a good opportunity to change the subject. She could ask about what he wanted for lunch, if she should pick up something from the store.

“Do you remember…If there is anything specific you miss about her the most?” She found herself asking quietly. A part of her hoped he hadn’t heard the question. Was it rude to ask something like that? Her mother wasn’t with them anymore. She was never coming back, this whole conversation was just adding logs into the fire, wasn’t it?

Yet, she was _her_ mother. She deserved to know these things, didn’t she?

Jeralt took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face. “There isn’t just one thing Bala… It’s hard to pick, I could go on forever. I miss the food she used to cook for me, the sound of her laughter, the brilliant way her face would light up when she smiled. Her eyes, and all the colors I could find in them. Even her voice, she loved to sing, and even when she wasn’t, she treated her words like they were a song.”

Her heart was probably going to burst from her chest, she knew how much her Dad loved her mother, but she never heard him talk about her like that before.

Why did it hit so close to home?

And why was she feeling light headed?

Did _she_ actually—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone missed it, the beginning of the last chapter was the first half of the letter. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that has read, continued, and left kudos! I love you and I hope everyone is staying happy and healthy!♥!


	7. Don't Look Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Chapter set in the past!

The sun still hadn't poked through the window when she opened her eyes, and Balaiya had half a mind to stay snuggled in the blankets until it did decide to show its face.

However, something felt off, and she wasn't quite sure what it was.

So she tried to sit up, but was hardly able to move.

“What the?” She mumbled groggily, and propped herself up on her elbow to look around.

It was still pretty dark, but not dark enough that she couldn't see her surroundings. When she looked down, the sleep vanished from her eyes.

His head was on her chest! That wasn't the problem though, the problem was that she'd apparently passed out without getting dressed… she could _not_ have that.

 _Dammit…_ She tried to wriggle away—without waking him— but that proved harder than she thought because he had an arm around her. The more she moved the more he tightened his grip on her.

The longer it took her to figure out how to free herself the more of the previous night's events started to surface.

She was so embarrassed!

He'd never been so gentle with her before, even thinking back on it made her heart skip. She was so overwhelmed by it all that she nearly cried— did cry. She was more than embarrassed, she was mortified.

She grabbed one of his pillows to try to coax him on to it instead. _Let me go, you idiot…_ She thought to herself. Suspicion crept up on her, and she brushed his hair out of his face to see if he was actually awake, and just messing with her.

Her heart tightened— he looked so peaceful…

She smiled softly, and gently brushed her thumb over his cheek. “You're such a baby…” she started pressing random patterns into his skin, for a moment, she got lost in the feel of him. Eventually, her mind caught up to her and she stopped, embarrassment once again sweeping through her. She shifted, and nudged him. “Can you scoot, please?”

A few moments floated by and one of his eyes cracked open. He barely looked at her before he released her and rolled over.

Relief washed through her, but she held her breath to see if he'd move again. Thankfully, he remained asleep.

She carefully slipped out of the covers to gather up her clothes, and snuck out to the bathroom to take a shower.

It was probably because she was now safe and alone, but she finally fully registered everything— she had to cover her face even though no one could see her.

The previous night!

She should have just gone to bed! But she'd asked for it, much like she had on many other occasions. Never did she expect such a change, why would he treat her so softly?

She thought she was going to melt into him, would have been happy if she had. The worst part? She’d uttered something forbidden, it slipped past her mask more than once in a garbled string of breathless cries. She choked it out like someone gasping desperately for air. Almost as desperately as she'd clung to him.

_I love you, oh, goddess…I love you…_

She chewed the inside of her cheek, she couldn't even remember how many times she said it. Her only saving grace was that she had spoken in Fódlani… as far as she was aware, he didn't understand much, if not, any of the language…

Finished in the bathroom, she hurried to move the rest of her stuff to his car. It was still very early and she couldn't bring herself to go back up to the room. Some of her things were heavy, but she forced herself to finish on her own. Even though be said he would help her, she desperately needed a distraction.

When that was all taken care of, she still had time to spare so she made herself some tea. Time must really not like her much, because even she finished the drink, she was no less relaxed, and the sun was still not anywhere to be seen. She was getting antsy, nervous, so she went for a jog, hoping to clear her mind.

It didn't work.

Her whole trip around the block had proven fruitless, and if possible only made her feel more hopeless. _‘And_ I called out to the goddess?? I'm not really even religious!’ She thought for the hundredth time as she returned to the house. “What should I do… I wish Hilda was here…" she mumbled, "oh no, that's a terrible idea, I can't tell her any of this…”

Luckily, the sun was up by now, and she decided to set an alarm to remind her to wake him up.

She snatched a pillow off the couch and buried her face in it. If he did understand her, then what would she say?? Should she pretend she didn't remember? More importantly, **why** did she say it? Was that what people talk about, being caught up in the moment? They say confessions like that were not meant to be taken seriously.

That had to be it. She didn't _actually_ feel that way…it was just a reaction influenced by hormones, nothing more. Fretting over nothing wouldn't do her good at all.

Besides, they were friends! She never wanted a relationship. She told him as much. She had no reason to worry… Still,

_I’m flattered, but I'm here to study. I'm not looking for anything._

Had turned into.

_We're just helping each other out…_

_To,_

_Can you kiss me?_

What the hell had gotten into her?? It was far too late to be asking this, she just didn't expect things to get blown so… out of proportion. It wasn't supposed to get messy!

What if she ruined their friendship?

Did they even actually have one?

Was there even a line anymore?

His footsteps in the kitchen told her he was awake, and she hurriedly tossed the pillow to the side. She snatched the remote off the coffee table and turned on the TV in front of her, and tried to look interested in whatever the people on the screen were droning on about.

He walked in the room a few seconds later, and she could just feel his presence radiating behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Should she be casual? Maybe act like she hasn't noticed him?

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked after a moment.

“Huh?” She tensed. He sounded closer than she initially thought. “No, not really. I had some tea this morning.” She turned to look at him.

He stood behind the couch with a bowl of assorted fruit, his eyes still heavy, from lack of sleep no doubt. “Do you want some?” He held the bowl closer to her.

“Oh, sure.” Smiling, she took a few grapes from his plate.

He walked around the couch, and dropped heavily next to her. Causing her to lean towards him. “You already moved your things to the car?” He turned to face her, a frown on his lips. “How long have you been up?”

Her eyes widened when she got a good look at his face. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought someone punched his jaw…

She glanced to the side to avoid eye contact and scooched away. “Uh, I've been up for… a while.”

That was all _her?_ She couldn't remember ever doing something like _… that_ before… she didn't like leaving…evidence.

“Why didn't you wake me up then? I told you I'd help.”

“I set an alarm to wake you. It just didn't go off yet.” She shoved all the grapes in her mouth at once, a failed attempt to distract herself. She hoped he didn't notice she didn't actually answer his question.

Maybe because she was afraid of what he would say if he saw her in such a state?

Could it be because he looked so content in his sleep?

Amusement filled his eyes and he shook his head. “You better be careful, my friend. Wouldn't want you getting hurt.”

“I'll be fine.” She grumbled and reached for the bowl again.

He held it away from her. “Nuh-uh, I believe I asked you a question, my friend. No more treats for you till you answer~.”

Evidently, it seemed he did notice, at least he wasn't treating her differently. Glaring she reached over him anyway.

A bad decision apparently.

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her off balance, sending her crashing into his chest. “Nice try.”

She could just hear the smugness in this voice, not to mention _feel_ the words reverberating in his chest. Face on fire, she pushed herself up, her cheeks burned even more when she realized she might as well be sitting on him.

His neck looked worse than his jaw.

A new wave of embarrassment crashed into her, and she scrambled off him to stand up. “Why are you playing around Khalid? I have to get going soon.” She said, voice clipped.

He raised his eyebrows, but made no attempt to move. Instead, he remained slouched into the couch, and slowly popped a strawberry in his mouth.

She had planned on going off about something, but whatever that had been was currently going up in smoke the longer he just stared at her.

It made her feel angry. Frustrated!

Confused.

Was he _trying_ to get on her nerves?

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Hello? Are you trying to make me late?”

“It's 9 o'clock, my friend,” he yawned dramatically, and held a strawberry up to her. “We'll leave by ten, promise.”

She looked between the fruit, and his stupid face. “What are you doing?” She muttered.

“Providing you with sustenance, oh fairest of ladies~” He waved the strawberry at her, and winked.

She did her best to keep the frown on her face, but within seconds her face was split into a grin so wide her cheeks hurt. “You're so, ugh—” She rolled her eyes, and reached for the damn fruit.

Her mood could never really stay sour for too long when she was around him...

He pulled his hand back with a smirk. “Dashing? Roguishly handsome? Why thank you!”

She groaned. “Khalid!” She was so frustrated she could strangle him!

“Yes _m’lady_?” He waved the strawberry at her again.

She placed her hands on her hips. “Why are you talking like that??”

“What ever could you mean, fair lady?” Another wave.

“Like you're some stupid knight or something!” She reached for the strawberry again, only to miss.

“Aw, is it so hard to see me as a knight in shining armor?” He pouted. “I think I would make a fine knight.” He smirked when she failed again.

“Nope, I think I would be the knight of the two of us.” She scowled, and moved closer till her knees bumped his. He moved them apart, and she leaned into his space.

“Ah, you see, there's a problem here. I'm the only one who knows how to use a _weapon.”_

“A bow and arrow doesn't sound like a reliable close combat weapon, _Khalid. b_ esides! A knight could use their fists as a weapon!” She protested.

“Hey! That's because you haven't seen me in true action, and why do you always take jabs at my skills?”

“Uughh," she felt another smile treatening her terrible mask, "Because you always shove them in my face! Just give me some bear claws, watch what happens.”

He chuckled, and raised a brow. “I quake in fear. Oh, but do tell me more.”

“You should.” She scoffed. “I think I fit the qualifications of a knight more, actually.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Knights are honorable.” She stated simply, but even as the words left her lips a voice echoed in the back of her head. Mocking her.

She was anything but honorable…

He gasped, a hand flying over his heart. “And you think me not?”

“Well… are you not trying to ' _come hither’_ me with a strawberry?” Heat flared into her face when the tone of the way she used the phrase settled. She hadn't meant it say it like _that_ …

Pink was also invading _his_ cheeks, and despite herself, she smirked.

She did love to tease him.

What she didn't expect was his voice to come out so soft. Yet low, despite the silly conversation.

“ _Will_ you?”

Because, of course it would, her heart started hammering in her chest.

She bit her lip, and leaned in closer. “Will I, what?” Was she daring him? Giving him an out? Or both?

 _Bad idea_. She screamed internally. Half of her reasoned that this wasn't a big deal, was a conversation really so bad? The other half scolded her as it **always** did. This wasn't fair to him after all. Especially after last night! She needed to make sure she kept that line between them… or redraw it! Something! Build a new barrier. If she didn't… would she ever be able to secure their friendship??

His voice stayed low, and he dropped any trace of teasing or jest.

“Come hither.”

This conversation was ridiculous, stupid. She had to wonder how the hell did it start out anyway?? The words themselves were so cliché and overused in all the terrible books she would read in private. Often she would roll her eyes in annoyance! How could anyone think that was even even—

And yet, she couldn't remember ever feeling her knees go so weak so quickly before now.

But it was the _way_ he said it that really got to her, the way he watched her so intensely with darkened, hooded eyes, and lips parted ever so slightly. It made her think about the phrase's implications…

Her palms felt clammy, she didn't know what to do with them. For the first time that she could remember she was afraid to touch him.

So she pressed them on the couch besides his head, and carefully leaned closer. Not so effectively caging him in, because the smallest breeze would definitely topple her over.

He stared up at her for an immeasurable amount of time, because everytime she tried to count, she always forgot what number she was on.

Something cool pressed against her lips, and she startled internally. Glancing down, she discovered the culprit: the strawberry.

Hesitantly, she parted her lips and slowly took a bite.

The crisp sound it made sent another wave of color to her cheeks. She probably looked just like the strawberry…

She really, _really_ wanted to kiss him… but she shot that down quickly. She'd been too casual about things like that! And she was only _now_ realizing it. Maybe… if she asked him if he _wanted_ to… If he agreed, would _that_ change anything? Would they be any different??

It had been awhile since she asked him if he wanted something…

And right now, she was sure she'd give him _anything…_

She took a breath to speak, but was interrupted by the other half of the fruit being pushed into her mouth. Maybe it would be better if she died of embarrassment. A drop of the juice trickled past her lips, after she finished, he swiped his finger up the trail, and over her lips.

Her heart was strumming loudly in her ears, so loud in fact she wasn't sure if she'd be able to hear anything else.

His finger still sat dangerously against her lips, then he applied the smallest amount of pressure.

That was all that was needed to break the dam she had haphazardly slapped together. Eyes fluttering closed, she parted her lips, and eagerly took his finger into her mouth, pressing her tongue against it.

She knew she was selfish, she'd almost made peace with that, but she didn't fully realize just how greedy she was until now. She wanted him to hold her like he did last night. To touch her in the way he did that made her feel wanted, revered, _beautiful_ even…

A spike of jealousy hit her. She wondered just how it would feel if he shared himself with someone he _loved_. If he could treat _her_ like that, instead of whatever it was that they had between them… what would that be like? Would it be at all like it had been the night before? Was there a difference? Could she deserve something like that?

A blaring sound startled her, and she pulled away from him quickly. The wet _pop_ that echoed after her—somehow louder than the phone— taunted her as she fumbled for the stop button. Her ears burned.

The stupid alarm she'd set earlier!

Once it was off, she scrambled away from him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I'll um… wait in the car…” She mumbled breathlessly, eyes downcast. She couldn't look at him now! Not after that! If she could just disappear into the nether that would save her from a whole lot.

She snatched her bag off the floor and scurried off to the car.

Time alone so she could think would be best right now, because apparently she didn't have any self control. Apparently, she had no shame…

She swung the car door open, doing her best to ignore the sweltering heat that slammed her in the face. A car in the summer heat was always bad, but a car sitting out in the _Almyran_ summer sun was so much worse.

Once she was settled, she cranked up the AC in an attempt to make it snow. She pulled down the mirror above her, and glared heavily at herself.

“What are you _doing_ Bala?? He doesn't even want— you're leaving! Idiot!” She covered her face with her hands. _‘He'd be glad to be rid of you too!’_ She thought. ‘ _Just stop forcing yourself on him for one moment!’_

She was going to start her new life back home. Her dream job was finally in her grasp, she worked so hard for this— and yet—

She took a deep breath and looked around slowly.

She would miss the sun, the sands, the smell of the ocean in the air. The beautiful colors in the sky. The vivid greenery. The love the people had for the land around them. She was just a visitor, her time had expired

More than any of that, she would miss her friend, whom she cared for _so_ deeply. With whom she could spend an entire afternoon— the whole day even— laying on the ground, staring at the sky. Not even exchanging words, but still having a good time.

Her friend, that loved board games, but never gave her the easy way out.

Her friend, who loved to cook, and introduced her to so many different new flavors, and smells. She would try anything if it was made by his hand…

Her friend, that loved a dated form of combat. Oh, but he was brilliant at it! She enjoyed watching his tournaments so much, and would feel a rush of excitement whenever he won. Not that she would ever tell him that…

Her _friend_ , who only ever sang to himself, but always allowed her to listen. She discovered her favorite songs through the melody of his voice.

Her friend? That had an oud hanging over his bed, not just for looks. She couldn't remember how many times she fell asleep to it's tune…

He made her feel welcomed, wanted, and often, her woes would was away with the simple sound of his laugh…

It was time she burst that bubble, it wouldn't do her good to get caught up on her time here. She needed to move on, and in doing so allow him to do so too. She saw the way women looked at him, knew how often they giggled about their chances, possibilities. What he could do. What _they_ would do. Yet for some reason he never took them up on their offers!

“I'm holding him back…” She whispered solemnly and nervously chewed her thumbnail. On the bright side, she'd be gone in a few hours…

Then maybe he'd finally accept the offer from that woman at the coffee shop. Or the one they often saw at the park…or the one that lived down the street.

Another spike of jealousy hit her. It absolutely was not any of her buisness, and she had no right to be concerned with who he did or didn't welcome in to his life. _Still..._

Perhaps… the real problem was _her_.

The trunk of the car opened up, and she heard some shuffling.

She sat up quickly, and cracked open the window. “What are you doing back there?”

“Just putting something in here you forgot.”

“Oh…thank you.” She called back.

“Mhm.” He closed the trunk, and got into the driver's side. “Whoa! It's a blizzard in here, my friend! Have you got any ice cream for me hidden anywhere??”

“Very funny…” She mumbled. “It’s not that cold in here.”

He made a show of pulling his sleeves over his hands then dug into his pocket. “Here you go.” He held out a granola bar.

She sighed and took the bar from him. “Thank you.” She looked over him quickly.

He was wearing the black hoodie she bought him after graduation last week, the one with a yellow silhouette of the sun on the back. His hair was damp, and swept haphazardly out of his eyes. The fresh smell of his soap hit her next and she shifted closer to the window.

“You took a shower?” She asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

“Yup.” He pulled the car out of the driveway, and into the street.

She wanted to keep her eyes on the street, or the scenery as it sped by. But she kept finding herself staring at his profile. Something was different about him, and it was nagging at her terribly.

“Khalid?”

“Hmm?”

“Where's your braid?” She asked, frowning. It was such a constant trait of his that it felt strange looking at him without it.

“Ah, I was going to re-do it once my hair dried out.” He glanced over at her and gestured up to his still damp hair. “As you can see, the temperature hasn't helped it much.”

 _Oh, right of course_. Because she was trying to turn them both into blocks of ice, but, he'd come prepared with a sweater. As he so often did. That didn't help his hair.

“I'm sorry.” She mumbled after a moment.

“Nonsense.” He waved her off.

“You know… if you want ice cream, I'm sure you can go with that girl who we keep magically running into at the grocery store.” She glared at her reflection in the window. “She always asks you if you're free.”

“Ah, which one?”

“You know, the one with the really pretty dark hair…”

“Umm, nope. Doesn't ring a bell.”

She rolled her eyes. “Her name is Shirin!”

“Shirin?...” He repeated the name to himself a few times then scoffed. “Ah, you mean the girl who _accidently_ spilled soda on you? Yeah, no.”

She turned to face him. “What? No she—” it occurred to her then that she did in fact soil the blouse she was wearing that day with a red drink. But it _was_ an accident! “It was an accident! It was crowded that day… I'm surprised you remember that.”

“Well, she shouldn't have been drinking anything in the line anyway.” He rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, she's sweet. She's always so nice to you, her parents named her well!”

“Eh, I can argue that for ages, my friend.”

“Sure you could.”

“I'm _so_ glad you have confidence in me.”

She groaned and looked back out the window. Quietly, she murmured “You know I do…”

If he heard, he didn't let on so she refrained from asking anything else for the rest of the ride.

.

.

He kept his hoodie on even when they got to the airport, but she was comfortable enough in her shorts and t-shirt. Thanks to the escort pass he got his hands on, he was able to accompany her all the way to the gate.

“What’s the first thing you'll do when you get back?” He asked once she tossed side her third outdated magazine. According to the clock on the wall, she had fifteen minutes until boarding, finally.

“Uhh… probably hug my dad. Then my brother. I miss them.” She leaned back on the too hard seat and stared up at the ceiling. The harsh fluorescents glared down at her and she closed her eyes to avoid their scrutiny.

 _‘Would the three of them get along?_ ’ She wondered to herself. Khalid was such a personable person, he could get along with a room full of strangers. Then again, her Dad especially was the opposite of that. He didn't like talking to people much, let alone people he didn't know. Still, she was sure Khalid would not have trouble breaking his cold exterior.

 _Then again_ , that question would probably remain unanswered forever… She sat up and turned to him. He was tapping out some unknown rhythm on his knee with his fingers as he watched people walk back and forth in front of them.

Khalid had brought up the idea of going _with_ her to Fódlan some time ago. But she shot that down quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

After all, his family lived here! Why would he leave them behind? He never said how long he would be either, though she never gave him the chance to consider it.

…

_“That's not a good idea Khalid. What about your family? You can't abandon them.” She frowned at him through the mirror she sat in front of. Just where was he getting such an idea anyway?_

_He scoffed. “They'll be fine! I'd be disappointed if they couldn't manage without me for a while.” He held his palm out to her and she placed a hair tie in the center. He then busied himself with securing one of her braids before starting on another one._

_“How long though? And what would you do in Fódlan?” She thought of the letter he received a few days ago and shook her head, well tried to but he stilled her._

_“Ah, be still, my friend.” He mumbled, eyes focused on his handiwork._

_She sighed. “You were given an opportunity_ **_here_ ** _. You can't give that up! What will all of the time spent in school be for then?”_

_“I know, I know… but, I can learn the language. My skills are transferable, you know.” He tied up that braid then reached for the comb in his pocket. “I’m sure I could find something… I wouldn't mind menial labor for a few months…whatever works.” he shrugged, “besides, I'd be with you.”_

_She met his eyes in the mirror and frowned. “I'm sorry. I can't let you do that to yourself.”_

_..._

She covered her face with her hands. He would be better off without someone like her anyway. Someone wasn’t capable of knowing what they wanted… she thought she knew! She got her degree, and now her dream job! But why did she still feel so lost?...

A voice came over the intercom and announced her gate as _now boarding._

Robotically, she stood and turned to face him.

He stood as well and faced her with a crooked smile. “Ah, looks like it's that time already.”

She nodded slowly and looked up at him. She tried to smile, but she felt too heavy. “So it is… goodbye Khalid.” She took a deep breath. “It was nice meeting you.” She stuck her hand out.

He tilted his head and frowned, his eyes sweeping over her quickly. “Why so morbid, my friend? We'll see each other again.”

She frowned and gestured for him to take her hand. “I'm not being morbid. I'm just saying _goodbye_. Don't be difficult.”

He took her hand gently. “Ah, me? Difficult? I think you have me confused with yourself. C'mere.” He tugged her forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

She yelped in surprise. “What are you—”

“It was nice to meet you too, my friend.” He mumbled into her hair and she went silent. He pressed one hand to the back of her head . “See you later sounds so much better, doesn't it?” He tightened his hold. “Call me when you get there, yeah?”

She could have sworn he pressed a kiss to her head, but she knew better than to believe such a thing.

She allowed herself to relax into his embrace, because by the stars did she want this. To stay here with him. To continue to explore whatever this thing was between them. This thing that was surely building up for a long time. This thing that she had been blind to. But that wouldn't be fair, and it was far too late. And she needed to forget whatever she thought was happening, because she had made her choice.

It was the most logical one.

She hoped it was.

She wanted to hug him too… but she was afraid… afraid she wouldn't be able to let go… or that she'd start crying.

Carefully, she slipped her hands to his chest and pushed him back. He released her quickly and stepped further away. Her throat burned something fierce, and it only worsened when she saw the troubled way he looked at her.

He moved to put more distance between them, but she grabbed his hand in hers before he could move too far. She kept her head down, but tightened her grip on his hand. “Thank you for being my friend. I hope you find someone that you—that you can share your happiness with.”

“Balaiya… why are you talking like that?” He whispered, his voice sounded too vulnerable to be real. It carved into her chest and left her bleeding.

Her head snapped up to look at him, he hardly ever said her name. When he did, it was never like _that_. She blinked up at him owlishly, and for a moment she had to wonder if he felt as torn as she did. Or was she just projecting her inner turmoil onto the way his brows furrowed? The subtle way his voice wavered.

“I'm wishing good fortune for you.” She mumbled, then forced a laugh. “Is it so wrong for me to wish for you to find someone you can share your life with?” She looked away.

“No, I—No I didn't—”

“Last call!” The intercom announced and she bent to pick up her bag.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but her words died before they even properly formed. There were a thousand things she wanted to say, but she wouldn't know where to start. She had more questions than answers and she had long since missed the opportunity to figure it all out . Instead she bowed her head again and gently placed a kiss to his knuckles.

_Much like a knight would_ ,

but she was far from honorable.

Perhaps she was more akin to a thief. Stealing all she could and running off with her findings.

“Goodbye…” In one motion she dropped his hand and hurried towards the gate.

She kept her head down all the way there, not bothering to even look up in front of her. Not even when she got into the plane, or when she got to her seat, squeezed between two others who could care less for her personal space.

She tried to make it a clean break. Like a band-aid.

Was saying _goodbye_ not clear enough? What should she have done, said?

_We shouldn't be friends anymore?_

_It's not you, it’s me?_

That felt so childish! And too much like a break up! But they weren't dating, and she **didn't** feel that way about him. No matter how much her heart hurt…she _didn't_.

They were just friends, with… without boundaries. Which was a mistake in itself. Again, that was her fault, and she knew that.

She felt prickly and splintered. Like an open wound exposed to the air. And it was all her own doing. She just prayed to whatever, whoever was out there, that he didn't feel the sting.

Shakily, she took out her phone and opened up his contact.

_We shouldn't talk anymore…_

_I meant it when I said goodbye._

_I need some time to think…_

_It's not your fault._

_I'm not worth it…_

_I'm so sorry._

She deleted it all and put her phone on airplane mode. Mostly, because she didn't want to risk receiving any messages—she didn't know what she would say. Maybe she would think of something when she got there…

Only when the plane had finally leveled in the air did she look up and turn her head towards the window.

And all she saw was the sun.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥?


	8. It Doesn't Ever 'Just' Go Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! But it's here, and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Featuring a smiling Bala, and maybe a little angst?

It had definitely been a long time since she willingly got out of bed anywhere close to sunrise. Often, she was content to stare at the wall until noon before she finally found the energy to actually _get up_. But… today was different.

Today, Leth was coming home.

The first alarm that echoed and danced through her skull had her flying out of bed before she even opened her eyes. A sort of childish excitement filled her, and hovered around her heart with open arms. Leth hadn't been in Fódlan for a whole year, and though his program was shorter than _hers_ had been. They did not live too close to one another. She couldn't remember the last time she actually went out to visit his place! She was eager to change that!

She loved her brother dearly, and couldn't wait to see him again.

Uncaring as to what she actually put on, she threw on some baggy jeans and a simple, but worn t-shirt. Her hair was knotted in a mess, a problem that was solved easily by just twisting it into a messy bun, strands flying about. She wasn't trying to impress anyone anyway!

“Dad!” She called while she slipped on her combat boots— did she remember to grab socks?— “Are you up?” She snatched her phone off her bedside table to check the time: 10 o’clock. He would be arriving at the airport in a few hours.

She shoved the small device in her pocket, and hurried down the hall to her Dad's room. “Dad!” She burst in with a grin, “Dad, c’mon get up! We don't want to be late!”

He was up, but sitting in bed lazing about. He shielded his eyes from the hallway light when she burst in. “Yeah, yeah, I'm up Bala. Give me a minute.”

She laughed, and closed the door to a crack, “I'll start breakfast then. Hurry up! Traffic is so heavy about now!”

Leth would probably be tired when he got back, but he agreed to stay the week at Dad's house so they can catch up on things. There was a movie that she wanted to go see, a fantasy with magic, and creatures of dreams— hopefully he would see it with her!

She started the coffee, and set out her Dad's mug, and the one she'd used herself since childhood, a lavender cup with vines encircling it. There was a small chip in the corner but she didn't mind, it gave the cup character.

It didn't take long for the room to fill with the warm smell of butter, and the cracking choir that could belong to nothing but a couple of eggs simmering in a pan.

She hummed a quiet tune that she had stuck in her head for weeks, it always came to her at the most random of times. No matter what she couldn't remember where she had heard it! Perhaps a remnant from her dreams? She knew there were lyrics, but none came to mind. The tune alone was lovely, and always brought her peace of mind.

Dad walked in with a laugh, “Special day?”

She craned her neck over her shoulder, “Leth will be here today.” It was reason enough to be happy.

He gave her a pat on the shoulder, “Well, I'm lucky to be caught in the middle then!”

She shook her head, and handed him his plate, “Very funny.”

“Thanks, I know I'm better than Alois with that.”

She brought the mugs to the table then took her own plate, sitting down with a light scoff. “I dunno, Alois has some pretty good talent with the jokes.”

“What!?” He stabbed at his egg, the theatrics of it all had her smiling wider. “Bala, please. His jokes are terrible.”

“I think they're charming,” she laughed. While it was true Alois's jokes were pretty terrible, she couldn't help but think back on them with fondness. It has been a long time since she spoke with him. Perhaps she should join Father on his next game night.

“Bah!” he waved her off, and continued to attack his food. “You know what he said last week? _'Listen Jeralt, I know you can't stand my jokes, but I hope you can at least enjoy my cookin’. Even if it's a little corny.’_ Then the bastard handed me a plate with corn on it!”

“What!?” She snorted out a laugh, “that's great!” her cheeks hurt with how much she was laughing! Clutching her stomach she wiped her eyes, “Oh, I wish I was there for that.”

He shook his head, “Ugh, you're a traitor.” but the smile on his own face was nearly as wide as her own, “I can't believe you.”

Her chest only flooded with warmth, it was nice seeing her father smile. He was often so down. “Ah, well, when Leth gets here, you'll have your party pooper buddy back.”

He pointed his fork at her, “No, you mean a proper joke connoisseur.”

She snorted again, and got up to clean her dishes, “Uh huh, I'll let you win.”

Leth never laughed at Alois's jokes, what a shame.

She shook her head solemnly.

When he was finished she cleaned up his dishes as well. “I'm going to drive!” She grabbed the keys to the pickup, and jangled them in the air.

“Alright.” He followed her out and got in the passenger side.

They listened to classics on the way there. She tried to argue that since she was driving she should have been allowed to pick what station the radio was on, but he laughed and shot her with the _it's my truck_ comeback.

No matter, she was too eager to see her brother to mind.

She pulled into the pickup/drop off _just_ as he walked outside, phone in hand.

Dad's phone started ringing, and she nearly ripped the handle of the stick shift off with how quickly she put the truck in park.

“Leth!” Scrambling over nothing but her own legs she ran forward with her arms out.

He looked up just in time to catch her in a hug, the air flying out of him. “Oof— Whoa!”

“Welcome home Leth!” She grinned, and squeezed him.

“Ha, thanks Bala.” He hugged her back gently. “I'm guessing I was missed?”

“Duh!” She released him, and picked up one of his bags, “Are you hungry? We can stop by Catherine's on our way back home. I'm sure she'd love to see you!”

“I am actually,” he held his hand out to the side, and a dainty, pale hand slipped into his, and he pulled it forward.

Her eyes widened, she didn't even notice there was someone standing next to him! She flushed in embarrassment, she could have injured them! She completely forgot he was bringing someone back with him!

Her eyes widened further when she saw who it was. A pretty woman with hair as blue as a clear sky, bangs cut short, sat over her forehead in such an unbearably delicate fashion. Her eyes were warm like tea, and the smile she had reminded her so much of Mercie.

She gasped.

“This is Marianne, she worked with me in Sreng. She taught a fantastic speech seminar, and also filled in for one of the nurses.”

“It's so nice to finally meet you!” Marianne beamed up at her, hand extended out in front or her. Her brows twitched down just a hair, and her lips pursed in a way Bala could only describe as determined.

“Oh!” She smiled, and shook her hand. “I'm Balaiya…”

“I've heard so much about you! Byleth really likes to talk about you.” She smiled, and smoothed out her dress, a light blue pleated sundress that looked like it had been pressed to perfection.

Balaiya was suddenly feeling very raggedy.

“Ha, well she's my twin.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Plus she's pretty great so what's not to talk about?”

Dad joined them, arms outstretched, “Leth! Come here!” Before he could react he pulled him into a tight embrace.

Leth’s… _friend?_ Marianne hid her giggle behind a lace covered hand.

“I missed you too, Dad.” He gave him a few pats on the back, and stepped away. “Ahem, anyway, I wanted to—”

“And who's this lovely lady!?” Dad cut him off with a grin, “Your girlfriend?”

Balaiya frowned, “Dad, she's—”

“Uh, yeah. Her name is Marianne.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked between the two, not even realizing she wasn't hiding her shock.

Since when?? And how did she miss that? Something like that was important! She felt nauseous, and had to swallow the flood of saliva that filled her mouth. “O-Oh! Congrats!” She forced a smile, “I can tell you're already too sweet for him Marianne!” She did her best to sound teasing, and gave her brother a light punch on the shoulder. Which turned out to be harder than she anticipated. Why were her palms sweating? “Oh! Let me get those for you!” She gathered up more of their bags, and hauled them off to the truck.

Why didn't he say he had a girlfriend before? Why didn't he introduce her as such?

Some of the bags were a lot heavier than they looked, but she hardly noticed the weight.

If Marianne was _anything_ like Mercie, then she was positive they would be fast friends! She would fit in quite nicely in fact.

So why was she feeling so… off?

She returned to the trio, and motioned to the truck. “Okay! Everything is packed up. We should um, probably stop holding the line.”

“Ah, right,” their Dad moved over, and opened the back seat door so they could sit in the back. “Hope you don't mind it being snug back there!”

“Oh we don't mind at all.” Marianne said happily.

“Hey, Dad? Can you drive? I'm uh—” she wiped her palms on her jeans, “—I'm feeling kinda tired.”

“Sure.” He got in the driver's side, and pulled back onto the road.

She was grateful he didn't ask questions.

“So! How are you two feeling? Wanna hit Catherine's for a bite? Or do you want to head home to rest?” he asked.

“I'm good with whatever,” Leth said after a moment.

“Oh, if it's not too much trouble, I am a little hungry.” Marianne said.

“Catherine's is great, it's a cozy bar owned by a close friend,” Balaiya offered, “food’s tasty too!” She turned in the chair to smile at her before facing forward again.

That's exactly what _she_ had done when she had gotten back to Fódlan… she chewed her lip silently, eyes now glued to the window. She was feeling a little short of breath, so she leaned forward to roll down the window.

The burst of air that wooshed through the truck jolted her for a second before she took a deep breath, and stuck her head partially out of the window.

What was going on with her? She was feeling fine this morning! Maybe she ate something off yesterday? She could hear them chatting about something, but the wind rushed too loudly in her ears to focus on anything. They'd just get her attention if they needed her…

Her eyes started stinging. It must be the wind, the wind had been pretty crisp this morning…

But it was almost noon…

And her heart was hurting…

Dad got off the highway, and she pulled her head back in the truck, she could hear them talking again, but kept her eyes on the street.

“Marianne is actually working on a book, aren't you?” Leth said, it was subtle, but the pride that was in his voice was clear enough for her to recognize it.

“Are ya?” Dad asked, sounding impressed. “What about?”

“O-Oh, it's nothing really. Just a um, a fantasy.”

“Bala here loves fantasy stories, don't you?”

She jumped, “Uh, yeah I guess,” she chewed her lip again, and strummed her nails on the truck door. “It's been awhile since I read a good one though.”

“It's not ready for reading yet. It's mostly just, um, bullet points and theories.”

“I'm sure it'll be great,” she twisted in her seat to offer Marianne a reassuring smile.

Marianne visibly relaxed. “Thank you Balaiya, I hope so.”

“Of course,” she turned her attention to her brother, and slapped at his knee. “Don't embarrass the poor girl, dummy!”

He huffed, “I wasn't trying to.”

“No, it's okay,” Marianne placed her hand over his, “he's been a big encouragement to me.”

“That's…good.” Her gaze fell to their hands for a few seconds before she turned back around to face the street. Something bitter scraped at her insides. She cleared her throat once, twice because her throat still felt rough. “I eagerly await it's finish then.”

A quiet giggle floated to her ears “Alright, I'll make sure I tell you when it's done.”

To her relief Catherine's bar finally came into view, and by the time Dad parked the truck, she couldn't be more anxious. Just so she wouldn't be rude, she hopped out of the truck, opened their door for them before rushing into the building.

From behind her she could hear Marianne excusing herself to make a quick phone call.

She hadn't been here since Hilda dragged her here. That was a bit ago. She glanced over to the corner they often sat in, and her heart jumped.

Speak of the devil!

“Hilda??”

The pinkette peered up from her phone just as the others walked in. “Bala?!” Her eyes widened, “Leth!? Ah!” She squealed, and jumped off her chair, running over to them. “I knew you'd stop by here! I was waiting for you guys! Dorothea is in the bathroom!” She turned to her brother, “Look at you! Were you always so tall!?”

She laughed and pulled them both in a death grip. “Ah! My favorite twins are back together!” She squeezed them harder.

Balaiya could have sworn her brother's back cracked. Hilda was always strong, but man! Was it always like _this?_

“Argh, yeah, ok. Nice to see you too Hilda.” Leth mumbled.

Hilda released them, and took a step back, “Oh! And Sir Jeralt!” She saluted him, “nice to see you tooooo! Ah! Who's this!?” She smiled widely at Marianne, who had just walked in and was half hiding behind their Dad.

“That's Marianne, my brothers um… girlfriend.” Balaiya said, quietly. That uneasy feeling was creeping back, and she did her best to push it away. She turned to her, and smiled as best as she could “Marianne, this is Hilda! She went to the same highschool as us.”

“Nice to meet you.” She shook Hilda's hand, her own smile was warm and true.

“Oh the pleasure is mine! You look lovely! If you want to hear some throwback stories about Byleth here, let me know!”

Leth sighed, and sat down at the bar, “How about another time, Hilda?”

Hilda tapped her chin, “Hmm… if you insist.” She turned to Jeralt, “Are you okay with us joining you?” She gestured back to the corner, “I know you didn't expect extra company, so it's alright if you want us to leave you for today.”

He waved her off, “Nah, come join us! It's been awhile.”

“Oh thank you!” She grinned, and ran over to get her stuff. She returned a few moments later with a half full drink, and Dorothea at her side. “Hey! This is Dorothea! She's a good friend of mine and Bala’s!”

Marianne smiled up at her from her seat besides Leth, “Nice to meet you, I’m Marianne.”

“Oh!” Dorothea's eyes widened, “You don't happen to be _the_ Marianne von Edmund, do you?”

Confusion flitted across nearly everyone's face, save for Jeralt who was busy shouting for Catherine.

“Hey! Cathy! The hell are you?”

Marianne nodded, “I am.” A small frown tugged at her lips, “Have we met?”

Dorothea shook her head, “Oh, forgive me, we haven't,” she dug into her purse, “but, you've worked with my Ferdie! Your wonderful skills perfected that awful speech he wanted to give in Adrestia. Did you get our invitation?”

Faintly, heavy boots could be heard clomping up from the back hallway. “Who the hell just called me Cathy?!”

Marianne's eyes brightened, “Oh! You’re Ms. Arnault? Ferdinand has spoken very highly of you. Yes, I did receive the wedding invitation. Congratulations!” she clapped her hands together, “I am so happy for you!”

Hilda gasped, “That's so cool! What a small world!”

Catherine burst into the room, slamming two boxes down on the bar counter. “Who—” her eyes landed on their group then jumped over to Dad, “Jerry!” She laughed, and jumped over the counter, landing next to him. “It's been forever!” She slapped his shoulder.

“Hmph.” He leaned away from her. “Don't call me that.”

“Oh! You took the words outta my mouth!” She tossed an arm around him, and shook him dramatically. “What's the special occasion?”

“Leth’s back!” Balaiya piped up, pointing at him even though he was obviously in view.

“Ah!” She swung her other arm around his shoulders, and dragged him into her chest. “Welcome home!”

“Thanks, Catherine.” He ducked out from under her arm with an exasperated sigh.

“Catherine, ain't you too old to be jumping around?” Dad muttered.

“Ain't you too old to be drinking?” She shot back.

He glared at her but made no other attempt to store the pot.

Catherine grinned, and turned her attention back to their group, eyes focusing on Leth. “So! How long do you plan on staying in Fódlan?”

“Well, I still have an apartment here.” He shrugged a shoulder, “As long as I'm welcome, I guess. I still got a position at the University anyway, so it's looking good. Marianne can work from home, so there's nothing to worry about.” He looked over at her, a small smile on his face, “Right?”

She nodded “Right!”

“With your skill, darling, I'm sure you can get a solid job in no time!” Dorothea said. “In fact… hmm. I can talk to Ferdie, see what's what.”

“Ms. Arnault, you don't have to do that!” Marianne gasped.

“No, no, it's okay! And please, you can call me Doro! I hope we'll be great friends!”

“Oh, goodness. Thank you!”

Catherine walked over to them with a grin, “Are you guys hungry?”

“Very!” Hilda said, grinning herself.

“Then hurry up and order yourselves something!” she laughed.

Everyone went about ordering some snacks and drinks.

Balaiya didn't really feel like eating anything. Her insides were twisting uncomfortably since they got here, and it only worsened the longer time past. She could also feel Hilda looking at her, and she had a feeling she wanted to ask something she didn't think she was ready to answer.

“Catherine? Can you just get me something strong?”

“Anything in mind?” She hummed while cleaning a glass.

_Something that will knock me out…_

“Uh, do you have any dragon-blood?” It was a very strong drink from outside of Fódlan. The liquid was red like it's namesake, thanks to the phantom pepper mixed in with it.

“Ooof, girl,” she shook her head, “sorry, no can do. That stuff is too strong for this lovely place.”

“Damn,” she sighed heavily, “anything close?”

“Ehh,” she turned to glance over the shelf, “I've got some Sunrise, I can mix it in with some tomato juice, and some normal people peppers. Best I can do to replicate it. Sounds good?”

Balaiya couldn't help but roll her eyes at the jab, “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Sounds _gross.”_ Leth mumbled at her side, brows, and nose scrunched as if he'd just tasted it himself.

She stuck her tongue out at him, “You're just a lightweight.”

“Psshh, no, I just hate the idea of _spicy_ liquor. It already burns. Why make it worse?”

“Maybe I'm a masochist.” She mumbled, and picked at her thumbnail.

“Hm,” he looked her over a few times before raising a brow, “are you alright, Bala? You've been…feeling off.”

“I'm fine, Leth.” She fixed him with a steady look, “I’ve just been scatterbrained. I feel embarrassed, because I forgot you were bringing a friend.” She sighed, and sat on her hand so she wouldn't damage the nail further. “I hope I didn't come off as rude… Marianne seems so sweet. I would love it if we were friends.” She smiled honestly, but she still felt something inside herself twist. “I just wish you would have actually told me she was your um… g-girlfriend.”

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “Well, first of all. I don't think she thought you were rude. **I** didn't think so. I just thought you might have been feeling sick or something?” He sighed, “I was going to tell you on the phone, but it didn't feel like the best time. I told Dad pretty recently, because, well, the whole thing **is** pretty recent.”

Her eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yeah.” He glanced to the side, but she could see the hint of a smile creeping back on to his face.

It made her feel both happy, and ashamed… because she almost didn't even want to look at him. Her eyes started burning again. What a terrible sister she was turning out to be…

“How recent?” She took a steadying breath, unfortunately finding herself picking at her thumb again. It was at the very least distracting enough to keep the unwelcomed tears at bay.

“Um, probably two weeks.” He mumbled.

“Oh! That _is_ recent!” She nudged him with her elbow, “look at you! Ladies man.”

He scoffed, “Hardly. With all my supposed intellectual _talents_ , I fail miserably at personal social situations.”

“See, I was going to argue against that. Something along the lines of _oh no you’ve always been great with dealing with people,_ but you said _personal social situations_ , and I guess that's right.”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

Catherine set her drink down in front of her. “Sure you don't want food?”

She shook her head, “Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks Catherine.”

She only shrugged and returned to the other end of the counter.

Balaiya looked back at her brother and cleared her throat, “I’m no good at social situations either. You're probably better than me.” She took a sip from her glass. It definitely burned. Hopefully she would be too distracted by the burning to think about anything else…

He rolled his eyes, “That can't be true. You have like twenty friends.” He gestured behind them to the small group of _two_ of her lady friends plus a lovely Marianne. “Meanwhile I couldn't really keep in touch with much of anyone from highschool. Let alone college.”

She copied his reaction, but rolled her eyes even more dramatically, “First of all, I have like four fiends? And secondly, Hilda's your friend too!”

“Uh huh.” He eyed her drink warily. “You sure you want to drink that?”

She sighed, and knocked the rest of it back, resisting the urge to cringe. “Shut up, and tell me about your program. How'd you meet Marianne? Blah, blah, blah, have you kissed yet?” She nudged him again.

His cheeks tinted pink, “Uh, not really. Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “like I mentioned, Marianne offered a weekly public speaking seminar. My boss actually suggested I attend because my methods were apparently _too critical_ for the students.”

She laughed shortly, “Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. What a surprise, right?” He added sarcastically.

“Mhm.” She didn't miss the pink that had dusted his cheeks a moment ago, but she decided to let it go. She didn't want to embarrass him in front of everyone, even though she wasn't speaking loudly. Her brother had always been so much more reserved about his personal life compared to her.

She took a deep breath, and signaled Catherine for a refill on her drink. “So, who talked to who first?”

“Uh, well technically I did.” He shrugged, “she left her book in the conference room, so I went to return it to her.”

“How sweet of you.” She said honestly, but couldn't help but add a hint of teasing into it.

He shook his head, “It was the right thing to do. I didn't even really speak to her much after that,” he propped his chin up with his hand, “it wasn't till a while later that she invited me to lunch with her.”

“Ooh! Is that what kicked it off?”

“I guess?” he shrugged, “we were just friends at first.”

“Haha… right,” she tried to sound sarcastic but she ended up nearly whispering it instead, “well, she's lovely, and I'm happy for you.” she added softly.

“Thank you, Bala,” he said with a smile, he took a breath to say more, but Catherine came over with everyone's food.

“Here you guys go! Enjoy! Let me know if you need anything!” She moved over to refill Balaiya's drink, “here babe, eat this at least,” she shoved a dinner roll in her face.

“Agh,” she leaned away, but accepted it anyway, “fine, thank you Catherine.”

“What did you get, Byleth?” Marianne asked, and leaned over to inspect his plate.

A small smile lit up his face when he turned to her, Balaiya decided to take the opportunity to step out.

A few breaths of fresh air would surely be enough to calm her nerves…

She took her drink— and her bread— and slipped outside, making sure to walk away from the window so they couldn't see her standing outside like an idiot.

“Get it together, Bala.” She grumbled to herself, and finished the rest of her drink— well tried to but it was plucked from her hand— she turned with furrowed brows, “what the,” she frowned, “Hilda??”

“Girl, don't act like you're surprised. I was watching you, something is up,” she sniffed her drink, cringed then dumped it in the bushes.

She scowled, “Hey!”

“Don't _hey_ us girl,” Dorothea said, appearing out from behind Hilda. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I'm just tired again, I woke up early,” she sighed and shoved the bun in her mouth, taking a large bite from it.

Dorothea shook her head, “We know—”

“Nope, Doro, we can't beat around the bush, Bala, hun, please, were sorry—” she cleared her throat loudly “— I’m sorry specifically, but it had to be done, and I knew you weren't going to do it—”

The nausea was back, and her head spun, what did Hilda do? What did _they_ do? Her mind started whirling too fast for her to focus on a thought properly.

“What did you—”

“We called him.” Dorothea said flatly.

—

—

They did _what??_

—

_How??_

—

—

She blinked at them blankly for a few seconds then leaned over, and spit the food out of her mouth— lest she throw up— “What??” she asked, voice nearly gone.

She had expected to yell but all that came out was a pitiful whisper.

Hilda shot Dorothea a glare then hurried to her side, “No, no, it's ok, is ok, he didn't pick up!” She grabbed her arm and helped her sit on the sidewalk.

“How did you get his—”

“I found a number that didn't match the usual number count we use in Fódlan in one of your textbooks,” she smiled sheepishly, “you know when I was helping you move? It was used as a bookmark, and I took a picture of it, I promise I wasn't going to call it— I had only planned to show it to you to see if you knew who's it was!”

“I insisted we look into it though to make sure it wasn't in fact a number from Fódlan,” Dorothea said, arms crossed, “The area code is in fact Almyran.” she raised a perfectly formed eyebrow at Hilda, "Don't look at me like that, you just said we shouldn't beat around the—"

“She pressured me to call it!” Hilda shouted, “I was going to wait to tell you this, but— I couldn't help it. We just called it earlier today, before you showed up actually.” She laughed dryly, “he didn't pick up, so no worries right?” She reached over, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Balaiya barely registered the touch, her head was ringing too much.

They called him?? Without asking her first??

Something akin to betrayal crept into her chest, but she shook her head to banish it away. She _did_ tell them they could look into the matter, she just thought they would stick to their promise to not contact him until she okayed it…

But, honestly, she probably never would have.

And on the bright side, he didn't answer, so no harm done right??

“There _was_ a rather long voicemail recording, and the inbox was full,” Dorothea added.

Hilda shot her another glare.

She waved Hilda off and continued, “The message is in Almyran, so we don't know what it said, but it sounded like a man talking, and occasionally a woman interrupts him. You are going to listen to it. And I’d really appreciate it if you told us what it says! You must!” She started pacing, her voice going up an octave, like it did when she got excited. “It's a little hard to hear in general, because it sounds like the speaker is in a noisy restaurant—” she glanced at the building behind them, “—or bar, but you must listen to it.”

Balaiya pressed her hand against her forehead, there _was_ a possibility it was someone else's number by now, but _still…_ her heart hammered in her chest. “Can't I do it later?” She mumbled, pressing harder into her forehead.

“Uh, sure, hun,” Hilda said, patting her on the back, “you’re probably not in the best condition anyway.”

Dorothea scoffed, “She had _one_ drink, _one_ she can hold her liquor like her dad! Besides, it's been too long.” She knelt in front of her, “Bala, sweetie, I love you, really, but you will never move on if you don't sort this out. Clearly ignoring it hasn't helped, so you must face it. I'm here for you, Hildie is here for you, please? I'm tired of seeing you so sad.”

“Don't push her Doro!” Hilda frowned, “we probably shouldn't have—”

“Hilda, she would do the same for us! Maybe much sooner! She won't fall because we will be there to catch her. Besides, this was your idea at the start.”

“I know, but—”

Balaiya shook her head again, the pounding was getting worse, and now her palms were sweating again. “Fine, I'll do it now,” she fumbled for her phone, but froze once it was in her hand.

“Do you want the number?” Hilda asked quietly.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat, “Um, actually—” she took a deep breath, “can you just, can I use your phone? If he _does_ answer, I don't want him to— you know.”

Hilda nodded, and handed her her own phone, the keypad already opened up on a number that had been engraved in her heart.

_So it still_ ** _was_ ** _his number then?_

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a few moments before finally pressing the call button, and shakily bringing it to her ear.

It didn't even ring, just went straight to voicemail.

It was indeed a bit difficult to hear the speaker at first, the background noise of dishes, and music almost drowned out the words. But once she _did_ focus on the voice— **his** voice, she hardly registered anything else…

…

_Hey… if you're getting this message then it's— uh, gosh— I think it's been… Yeah. Haha, can you believe it's been two years since you— went back home? I'm doing great, been pretty busy! Moved since then, I'm not close to the beach anymore, but that means I don't have to drive so much to get to places._

_I can just walk._

_My how time flies…_

_…and sometimes you go to bed five times in one day, and it's_ **_still_ ** _wednesday! Isn't that crazy? I lose track of days so easily lately…_

_I hope you're safe! I tried to call you um… jus’ a few times. A while back… maybe a call on your birthdays, and one on New Year's— is New Year's still your favorite holiday?— Well I guess New Year's in Fódlan is different…_

_Oh, but, I guess you didn't want to talk anyway._

_If it was…if it was me… I know your last day here probably wasn't the best, and if I hurt you at all— I—_

_I'm so,_ **_so_ ** _sorry…_

_…_

_I wish— wish youwouldatoldme! I dunno— I didn't— I hope you know I would never, ever knowingly do something to hurt you,_ **_ever_ ** _—_

_._

“Ugh, who are you talking to?”

“Just myself… again.”

_._

_—Anyway, did I mention it took me two years to record this? I mean it took that long to—_

_Oh! I just quit my job with that research team. I kinda hated it. Well, that's not entirely true. I really did like it at first— remember when you spilled that vial all over the— ah, nevermind…_

_You know you stole my favorite t-shirt? The one with the deer on the back… but I guess you can keep it. Oh, and you left your favorite comb here, the pretty rose gold colored one that has a flower engraved in the handle. Ya know, the one that I nearly stabbed myself with? Cause you left it in my couch cushions that one time when we got back from that— erm, anyway, I found it last week in one of my hoodies!_

_I would have sent it to you, but for some reason you never gave me your address— well I guess I know why you didn't. It's still sitting on my dresser… actually, I should probably… If you haven't yet, you can throw that stuff out that I sent—_

.

“Come back over here!~”

“Just give me a sec… for the love of— damnit…”

.

_A buddy of mine found some pictures of you online… congratulations on your, uh… relationship._

_I truly wish you continued good fortune._

_I’m glad the gods of fate have treated you well, it is nothing but deserved._

_I dunno how long I'll keep this line on, but I don't use it anymore anyway… and if you've gotten this far, thank you for listening…_

_I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me…_

_…_

_Goodbye, my friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone for reading!!!! I love you all!


	9. Wine After Whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dished this out relatively quickly, now that I got the courage to change those things around the updates might come quicker. (If everything irl goes alright.)
> 
> This will surely make the changes make sense!
> 
> Thank you guys, much love, and stay safe! ♥♥

“To put it simply, as long as everyone submits their paperwork by the end of this week, I should be able to send everything to the shareholders by the end of the month.”

It was starting to look like a strenuous task, but there wasn't anything that he couldn't handle.

He had been far too lenient with these people, which was unlike him. He preferred things simple, and to the point. There was no need to beat around the bush when the easiest path forward was straight.

Even if he had to cut it himself.

“Any questions?” He cleared his throat, and surveyed the room carefully, making sure to make eye contact with each of his grandfather's co-workers— now his while the old man was on medical leave.

“Actually, I do,” one of the oldest of the group cleared his throat obnoxiously, a smug look plastered on his face. “Tell me, boy,”

Instantly he tightened his grip on the pen in his hand. Stars above, he needed a smoke!

He was nearly twenty nine! The big three zero was a little over a year away! To still have his family calling him _boy_ was annoying enough already, but he knew they meant well. However, _this_ man, he knew nothing but spite came from his usage of the word.

He wanted to cut him off, but he restrained himself for just a moment.

As he'd come to learn, all things came to those that waited. Considering what he knew regarding Mr. Gloucester here, patience would make everything all the more sweeter.

“Wasn't our deadline supposed to be the end of **this** week?” The annoying old man continued, “you need to get a move on. Just because you are Oswald's grandson doesn't mean you can slack.” He chuckled, and leaned back in his chair, “don't forget, I have so graciously offered you my son's language tutoring. If understanding the documents is difficult for you, you need only ask for my assistance.”

He was sure his knuckles had gone white during the man's spiel. Any chance these old bastards could get at insulting his heritage they took. Yes, Fódlani was new to him, he'd only begun really learning it three years ago at the request of his grandfather, everyday sense then he'd practiced speaking. He was always conscious of his accent, and did his best to make sure it wasn't present. To make sure no one could tell.

Which was why he spoke just a tad slower than most.

“Well, that's very kind of you,” he took a deep breath to calm himself, and tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Ah, but I have to wonder if your son is suited to be _my_ tutor, after all, it was his mistakes that ruined your documents, was it not?” He gathered his paperwork, and shuffled them together. “It also seems as if age is doing it's number on you _once again,_ see, I'm **your** boss, in place of my grandfather, I handle the paperwork needed for you to get **paid.** Due to your carelessness with your work, everything you submitted is incorrect,” he was going to wait until after the meeting to tell him this, but since he wanted to play this game again, he was more than happy to comply.

He rifled through one of the folders once more, made an audible _tsk_ , and snapped it closed before sliding it across the long table to where old Gloucester sat.

“I've so _graciously_ put my neck on the line so that the company can continue to move as a team, would you rather lag behind the rest of us?” he shook his head slowly, giving him a long grim look before standing, and grabbing his bag. “I won't be—”

His cell started ringing.

Just for kicks, he held his finger up as he dug into his pocket.

The screen read: Miss Marianne

Almost instantly his mood lifted. He was waiting for her call!

“Ah, if you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have a very, very important call I must take now,” he moved to the door, but before exiting, he glanced over his shoulder. “I won't be so kind in the future Gloucester, and I kindly expect you to address me as Sir Von Riegan. I won't respond to anything else in the future, written or otherwise.” He smiled as innocent as he possibly could before slipping out into the hall.

A smirk etched into his face, stars that would kill him. He didn't care how ethical it may or may not be, one humble pie would never be enough for the old man anyway. Better to feed him it in tiny torcherous pieces instead.

He took in a deep breath, and hurried off to his office, clicking the answer button just in time.

“Marianne! How’s my lovely blue bird?”

A soft giggle sounded from the other end, “You're so silly Claude. I just wanted to tell you that we landed safely.”

“Oh that's fantastic!” He held the phone with his shoulder, and opened up his bag to take out his lighter, “how was the flight?”

“It was good. I slept for most of it,” she giggled again, “though I did get some extra snacks from the flight attendant.”

He moved out to his balcony and lit a cigarette, “using your wonderful charm for evil? You learn quickly!” he snickered then took a long drag.

“Oh stop, I didn't even ask for the extra! She just gave it to me without saying anything.”

“Hmm,” he nodded, though no one could see him, “mind powers, got it. I envy you Marianne.”

“Oh goddess, what am I to do with you?” She laughed softly.

“Send me some good wine, or authentic smokes.” He laughed knowing fully how she felt about his _bad habit._

 _“_ Claude! You're supposed to be quitting! Don't tell me—” a gasp, “you're smoking now aren't you?”

“Caught red-handed,” he admitted, though didn't really feel too much shame over it. “Don't worry, I'm cutting back,” he glanced at the half empty box, sorta, “yup, **anyway** , enough about me, where are you at now?”

She sighed softly, “I'm standing outside of this homey looking bar right now. I guess it's owned by a friend of his?”

He gasped dramatically, “Little Miss Mari? At a bar? The scandal!”

She giggled again, and a fond warmth filled his chest, “Don't worry, I'm responsible, unlike a certain someone.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, “honest, I'm trying… so, did everything go alright?”

“I believe you.” She said quietly before clearing her throat, “Yup, everyone's really kind! It would be nice if you could meet everyone someday.”

He hummed to himself, “Yeah, that would be nice, but I'm pretty busy lately. Maybe someday,” he ran a hand through his hair, and frowned, damnit! He'd just messed it up! Now it will surely start sticking out every which way as it usually does. “Sorry to cut you off, but I should get going, I have to pick up some food for Delia before heading back to the apartment today."

“Ah, I understand. I should probably stop standing around outside anyway, tell her I said hi?”

He frowned, he couldn't see that ending well. She was unreasonably jealous, “Sure, sure, call me if you need anything, got it? Especially if that new boy of yours starts acting funny,” he idly tapped on the railing in front of him.

_What was his name again?_

“I will, I will, and I'm confident nothing will happen. See you later, Claude.”

“See ya.” He sighed, and ended the call.

At least Marianne was safe, so if Delia didn't pester him today he might actually be able to get some sleep tonight!

Things were looking good.

Well, better than they usually did.

For a moment, he considered lighting another, but thought better of it when Marianne's disappointed face popped into his head.

He _did_ promise her after all…

“Damnit,” he sighed loudly, and went back inside. If it wasn't his turn to bring home food he'd stay in the office until sundown. Things generally went smoother that way. Especially as of late…

“Guess I'll leave now,” he grumbled to himself, and snatched his jacket off the hanging rack.

Though it was the summer season in Derdriu, it was still chilly to him in the evening.

Nothing could compare to the summer sun of Almyra after all, and Derdriu sat close to the ocean, so the breeze often picked up around this time anyway.

But the warmth of his homeland could never really be tamed by an ocean breeze. How he missed it…

Maybe he should return for a visit?

He slung his bag over his shoulder, and locked his office behind him, making sure to leave a note on his secretary's desk, informing them about the change of business plans.

There were still a few emails to send and calls to make, a meeting or three to schedule, but he could deal with that another day. He was tired.

“Good evening Mr. Riegan, are you heading out early?”

 _Early_ , more like on time.

He looked up to greet the familiar voice, “Ah, Ms. Ordelia, back from your break already?”

She rolled her eyes, “Duh,” she sat in her chair, and ripped the note off the desk that he had just placed there. Her bright eyes scanned the page quickly, then a snort left her, “why do you bend over backwards for these old fools?”

He laughed, and leaned on the counter, “Such harsh language, where did you learn that?”

“It's self defense from dealing with so much stupidity during my highschool years.” Her face lit up as the computer screen woke up, her fingers started flying across the keys. “I could teach you some useful phrases, could come in handy, you're too polite to those that don't deserve it.”

He laughed again, more genuine this time, “Ah, no thank you, I could hardly see a scenario where telling off those— fine fellows would end in anything but disaster.”

Though to be fair, he sort of did earlier, however he wasn't rude or insulting at all, at least in his opinion. Color him surprised if they didn't think so. They were probably cursing him to the dark depths at this point, at least Gloucester must be. Of course, he knew Lysithea meant using much more cruel language.

“Fine?” She snorted again, and waved him off, “whatever you say boss, just know the offer stands. Do you need anything else besides this?” She gestured to the note.

“Hmm,” he pushed away from the desk, a hand raking through his hair again, “Any idea on what I should pick up for Delia?”

“Cook something.” she stated without hesitation.

This time it was his turn to snort, “You already know she doesn't like my cooking.”

She _tsked_ loudly, “Ridiculous,” she muttered a string of things he couldn't catch before waving him off again, “get her some cheap fast food, and be done with it.”

“Yeah, I guess that seems best,” it was his plan anyway, as it always is, but…he sighed quietly before putting on a grin, “Were you trying to compliment my cooking Ms. Ordelia? I'm flattered.”

She scoffed, cheeks tinted pink, “Eh, I much prefer sweets.” She flipped a lock of snowy hair over her shoulder, and pointed to the clock, “I don't want your lady friend calling me again asking where you're at, get going already! Or answer her damn phone calls! Or I might run out of excuses for you,” she cleared her throat, “oh no, I'm sorry Miss, I do believe your fiancé is avoiding you…again.”

He gasped, and pressed a hand over his heart, feigning offense, “How cruel, you wouldn't!”

She paused her typing to glance at him with furrowed brows, “I was just—”

He smirked.

“Get out!” She grumbled, turning back to her computer with a huff. “I just might if you keep it up…”

He chuckled to himself, and finally moved away from her desk, “Good night Ms. Ordelia.”

“'Night, Mr. Riegan.”

Under her breath he caught her mumbling something that sounded like, _idiot._

For a moment he considered pestering her further, but he couldn't bother her for too long.

At least he had some ammo to use another day.

“I could make her a little something to apologise for annoying her all the time,” he said to himself on his way to his car. It was the least he could do, she liked sweets, maybe cookies? While he was never a baker, he knew his way around the kitchen, even if it'd been awhile. Besides, reading directions is simple enough. Which was why he couldn't understand how Delia always made the blandest of dishes!

 _And she bought_ **_him_ ** _a cookbook??_

He shook his head, and got into his car, tossing his bag in the passenger seat, the engine started smoothly and he drove out into the street.

“Get over it Khalid,” he muttered to himself. It was petty, there should be no reason for him to keep thinking about it. “She was only trying to help.”

No matter the context of the situation, and how she'd just finished complaining about his cooking skills just two days prior!

She'd used the word nasty!

He'd never been so offended!

But, no, she was being _‘honest’_ , and _‘did he want her to lie to him?’_

It was stupid, maybe he just needed a break from work? Again he thought about going home, he never meant to be away for so long!

Maybe he should take a personal leave… for just a few days. Just to take in the lovely warmth again. But Grandfather's health wasn't getting any better, and he'd promised to stick around until he could return to work. But Mâmân wanted him to retire, and what was _he_ to do if he did? Inherit this company for good? He didn't want to be stuck in Fódlan for the rest of his life… though it seemed he was the only one that had a problem with staying.

Was he overreacting?

Maybe he was just homesick…

He picked up something plain for Delia, but decided not to get anything for himself. He'd soured his own mood, so he didn't feel like joining her on the couch.

The TV was already on when he walked into the apartment. “Hey, I'm back.” He hung his jacket up on the back of the door. “Did Greta get arrested yet?”

The drama that she watched every week was getting pretty hectic. He didn't particularly pay attention, but he did his best to at least remember the characters' names. That way he could ask her a simple question pertaining to the plot, and she'd talk about it for hours.

“No, not yet,” she briefly looked over the couch at him before turning back to the TV. “The cops are on her tail though, I hope she gets away, she deserves freedom after all she went through!”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, noncommittally, and placed the bag of food on the coffee table. “How was work?”

She opened it up eagerly, “Pretty boring, I had a caller today call me like three times to ask me out!”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow, who would spam call a doctor's office? “Did you tell them it wasn't a good idea to harass a doctor's office?”

“Duh,” she rolled her eyes.

“Did you block the number?”

“Of coourseee.”

“Huh, okay then,” he moved over to the kitchen to get some water.

“My Mum called again,” she called over to him.

He repressed a heavy sigh. _Not again._

“Did she?” He pulled out his phone, and opened up Lysithea’s contact.

“They want to visit this weekend,” the commercials came on and she swept into the room,”You're free right? Don't forget I want you to get that haircut before Mum gets here. I don't want her seeing you looking all raggedy.”

_Here we go…_

He started typing: _‘Schedule those meetings for this weekend, and if you want to do your evaluation we can do it too.’_

“Oh right, right, I forgot,” he mumbled, “let me just check my schedule…is your Dad coming too?” he glanced up at her.

“Yeah, it's been awhile since their last visit, ya know.”

He sent another text: _‘Actually I need the whole weekend booked.’_

“Oh? You're right, it has been awhile since they last visited,” _like a month… not very long at all. Meanwhile, I haven't seen my mother in three years, but whatever._

Lysithea's message popped across his screen: _‘Done.’_

He sighed in relief, maybe he should get her a cake instead?

“Ah, you know what? I'm busy this weekend, big plans with the deadlines coming up and what not.” He only felt slightly guilty, it wasn't exactly a lie, he _was_ busy… now at least.

He could tolerate her mother, but if her father was coming along too? Hell no. Count him all the way out!

“You're always busy!” She whined, and stuck her lip out in a pout.

“Yeah I know, I'm sorry,” he finally grabbed a glass and filled it with water, only now he was wishing for something leagues stronger. “I'll make it up to you.”

“Hm… you could treat me and my Mum to a spa day.” She twirled a lock of brown hair around her finger.

“Sure,” whatever made her happy, “what about your dad? You mentioned he was coming along.”

She shrugged a shoulder, “the games this weekend.”

“Ok, I'll get him a good seat, sound good?” He really didn't want to, he couldn't stand the man…

But he _was_ her father…

“Thanks Claudie! I guess I can forgive you,” she reached up and kissed him on the lips, “but, I still want you to get your hair cut,” she ruffled his hair around, “come on, look how messy it is? Don't you like looking tidy?”

He huffed, he didn't really like that nickname. He moved her hand away from his head gently, “Alright, alright, I'll look for a place.”

_He probably wasn't going to._

He washed the glass and set it out to dry, “it's not like I go to work with a bed head, I clean up good.”

“Yeah,” she poked his back, “but I think men look so much better with crisp, **short** , fresh cuts.”

He smiled wryly, “I've heard…anyway, I'm going to head to bed early. I'm not feeling too good… I've got a headache,” he turned and nodded to the TV, “tell me how it ends?”

“Fine,” she puffed out her cheeks, “but you're not getting away with it next week, I want you to watch it with me!”

Ugh.

“Alright, I'll do my best…” he didn't want to make a promise he wouldn't be able to keep, whether on purpose or not…

“You better,” she called over her shoulder as she returned to the couch.

He went to make his way to their room, but the sight of the full bin gave him pause. “That's weird, I just took the trash out yesterday…” he mumbled and peered into it curiously.

It was mostly paper and… books?

Frowning, he pulled out the book on the top, it was in pristine condition, save for a dented corner, probably from being thrown away, so why did— his eyes widened when he flipped it around to look at the cover.

It was one of his college textbooks!

“What the—” his frown deepened, and he quickly checked it for any other damages. Yeah he might not technically _need_ the book right now… but he didn't want to throw it away! Books should never be thrown away, if anything, donated to someone who would find better use of it. “Hey, Delia? Why is my book in the trash??” He set it on the counter, and peered back in the bin, that was his class notebook! And another text book!

“Just some late spring cleaning!” She called back, “don't be like that, you don't even use the bloody things! They are in the way!”

He scowled, they were in a box in the back of the closet! _In the way?_ How?

Silently, he dug the most important things out, for a moment he considered taking everything out, but there _were_ a few things that could stay in the bin. Miscellaneous notes, ripped folders…

**Still!**

She didn't even ask him!

He double checked his phone to make sure. Nothing.

“Hmph,” he grit his teeth to prevent himself from saying anything else, and gathered up what he salvaged then returned to his room.

Maybe he could send them over to his parents house? Surely they wouldn't mind storing a few books for him…

“That's kinda fucked up,” he muttered, and started cleaning off everything, just in case. Despite the way he'd rediscovered the old books, he couldn't help the small smile that snuck onto his face. It must just be nostalgia…

One of his favorite books had also been tossed, and it had suffered the most damage!

He frowned, and sat on the corner of the bed, thumb running over the fresh crease that bent the book’s delicate cover. The corner folded terribly. “Did I ever finish you?” He mumbled to himself, and opened it up to the first page.

It was a sight for sore eyes indeed!

It had been some time since he read something printed in Almyran, for a few seconds his brain buzzed out in confusion.

It passed quickly though, and shame hovered over his head like a dark cloud. How could he allow such a thing to happen? If he wasn't going to speak it anymore, he could at least read the wonderful texts!

He'd read the first three chapters before realizing that he had indeed started this book, what felt like a lifetime ago! A story about a continent submerged in war…it was filled to the brim with politics, drama, humor, and just the right amount of romance. Oh, and did he forget to mention, dragons? He smiled again, stars, he needed to finish it!

Curiously, he rifled through to see if he'd left a bookmark somewhere inside. Granted, it'd been so long he was probably better off starting over…

A small folded piece of paper fluttered out, and he set the book aside to inspect it.

It had been folded in a perfect square, a handwritten note in Almyran filled the entirety of one side.

He scanned over it quickly, brows furrowed, this wasn't his hand writing… it was—

He gasped softly, he had a headache _before_ finding this, right?

He read over it again, slowly this time. The further through it he got, the drier his mouth felt.

  
  


_Hey Khalid,_

_I hope your practice session went alright! I’m sorry I stood you up for lunch! I forgot I had an important meeting for class today! We were supposed to meet off campus at this special site. Let me tell you, it was terrible! We weren't supposed to be outside but we were! For hours! I think my scalp is burned! And definitely my shoulders!_

_I sent you a text about the class, but you never answered! I know my signal was acting up. Please don't be mad at me! And if you are, please, please forgive me!_

_Since you still weren't home when I got back I went ahead, and made you dinner. (I hope you're safe!!) It's in the fridge in the blue tupperware. Everything in the container is yours, I know you like to eat a lot. If you ate already, at least taste it, please! I tried my hand at one of those recipes you brought from home! My favorite one in fact! I hope I did it justice! I do love your cooking!_

_I'm terribly tired (and in pain! :c ) so I will be asleep when you get this, but do tell me what you think of the food in the morning!_

_— Your Favorite, and bestest friend!_

_(Bala)_

_PS: I won't be mad if you wake me up to let me know you're home safe!! I'll surely sleep easier if you do!_

His heart was pounding by the time he finished it, and despite himself, he read over the note a few more times, each time his heart beat only grew more painful. He closed his eyes tightly, and pressed his head against his fist.

”I wonder—” his voice felt raw, and the words that slipped out were foregin to his ears, his mother tongue. The words he whispered, cold and empty, yet somehow, his throat still burned furiously, “— how are you doing, my friend?…” he took a deep breath, and let himself fall back on the bed. He exhaled heavily, holding the note up to glance over once more, thrice. “Do you even miss me?” He mumbled bitterly, the corner of the paper wrinkled in his hand, not realizing the stress he was putting on it. How tightly he was holding it…

A familiar ache settled heavily in his chest.

.

.

“Why haven't I _stopped_ loving you?…”


	10. Shades of Blue

She wasn't even sure if that was everything… How could she not realize so much of her everyday casual wear consisted of his shirts?

She put her phone down, the voicemail once again echoing in her head, each time, it only hurt more.

“Cause you're an idiot,” she mumbled, and delicately folded the last t-shirt into a neat square, hands smoothing over the newly washed surface as if it were tissue paper, “Clearly, they were loose for a reason,” she sighed quietly, and tucked the pile into a small box. 

Or perhaps she knew all along but was just ignoring it like everything else in her life… 

Now all that was left was figuring out where to send it. She was pretty confident she could remember his cousin's address. She had helped write the wedding invitations after all… the only problem was, she couldn't be sure if they moved or not since then. The other option was to send the box to his parents house, they were less likely to move, but she wasn't one hundred percent on the address.

Then, of course, there was the letter she was failing to write. She couldn't just send the box without an explanation of course. She glared at her latest failure, a half written letter, scribbled out to hell.

Damn the stars above, and all the gods and goddesses that glared down at her!

Her bin was overfull with crumpled paper, and she must have discovered a million ways to say sorry by now.

Still…

How does someone even begin to apologize for what she’d done? There was a part of her that kept saying that she was overreacting. The voicemail was nearly four years old, and he’d made it clear he was-

-a complete mess… 

It didn’t take her more than two listens of the recording to guess that he probably wasn’t all there. Judging by the sound of the surroundings, and his voice… Doro was right, he was probably in a bar… 

But he’d said _goodbye_ , just like she had all those years ago.

Surely that meant he moved on.

She glanced over to the latest unfinished letter that sat beside her, the phrase _I’m sorry_ written more than four times.

Her hand hurt, but it didn't compare to the pain in her chest. Her vision got blurry and she scowled. 

_Stop_ , _you don't get to cry over this anymore._ _You don’t deserve to!_

The scowl still on her face, she reached out and crumbled that letter too. The bracelet around her hand caught her attention, and she ghosted her other hand over the fine jewelry: one of his gifts. Would he want it back too? She crawled over to her bed, and pulled the box out from under it. What about his earrings? Would he want those as well? Would he want any of it??

He'd said she could throw them out… he must not want it back then?

But she couldn't bear to do that! Would never! These things were precious…

“Oh, what am I doing?” she mumbled quietly.

A sudden knock startled her, and she haphazardly shoved everything under the bed. “Come in,” she called softly, hands flying up to smooth down her terribly messy hair.

The door creaked open, and Marianne peeked in with all her sky blue glory.

“Yay! You're up,” she smiled, “I was going to have some tea in the backyard, would you like to join me?”

She scrambled to her feet, “Sure,” she forced a smile, and wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts “Do you need me to bring anything out?” She asked as she followed her into the hall.

“No,” Marianne shook her head, “I brought everything out already, thank you though,” she sent a small, unbearably bright smile her way.

Balaiya fell silent as she followed the woman all the way to the backyard, surprised by the newly cut grass. “Wow! It looks so nice out here!” _And clean._ Her next smile was natural, and it only grew wider when she saw the adorable set up in the grass, under the lone tree that stood in their yard. A dark blue blanket, decorated with intricate stars, on top of it was a silver tray where the tea sat, along with a container of sweets.

“Byleth cut the grass for me!” Marianne said happily, a light blush on her cheeks. She sat down, carefully folding her skirt over her legs, and patted the space beside her, “sit, please” she smiled again.

She was almost afraid to ruin the adorable set up, but sat beside her anyway, crossing her legs, “What kind of tea do we have here?” Mild guilt rushed through her again, it had taken her brother coming home to get the grass cut? How embarrassing, she hoped Marianne didn't think less of her…

“It's Lavender tea!” She declared, excitedly. “I do hope you enjoy it, it's my favorite tea!” Eagerly, she handed her a tiny cup— or more accurately, an actual teacup— it was adorable.

“Thank you, Marianne, I'm sure I will” she smiled again, but her eyes kept falling to the blanket. It was so beautiful! Even more so up close! The tiny details! It reminded her of a far away place… “this blanket is beautiful, where did you get it?”

She leaned forward to hand her some treats, “Oh! It was a gift a friend gave me when I left for Sreng, it's awfully cold up there, and he gifted this to me 'to keep me warm’, it's such a thick blanket I can't really use it now,” she ran her hand over the material “and I love it so much, I thought it'd be nice to use it now, I always hand wash it, and set it to dry outside in the shade” she looked up with a twinkle in her eyes, “to protect the color from the sun”.

“He sounds really nice, and the blanket really is beautiful,” Balaiya accepted the treats silently, she sipped the tea first before tasting the sweet. The tea was light, and just the perfect amount of sweet, the treat could be described the same way. “Wow, this tastes wonderful, did you bake these yourself?” she asked, head tilting.

She nodded once, “Yes, he is very kind, many people think him callous, but he's always been nice to me,” she sipped her tea, and if it were possible, her face brightened further, “And thank you! Byleth and I made them early this morning. We were surprised the smell didn't wake you!”

“Ha, yeah, I can sleep pretty heavily…” she glanced to the side, it probably didn't help that she had stayed up all night writing out letters that she only ended up throwing away…

“Byleth is actually a pretty light sleeper,” Marianne sipped her tea, and covered her face with her hand, “yesterday, I woke up really early, and I tripped on the rug in the kitchen!” She shook her head, cheeks tinted pink, “he woke up so quickly, he rolled off the couch! Knocked his head on the coffee table.”

Balaiya couldn't help the small laugh, “Oh, goodness, I'm not laughing at you Marianne, just my brother, you are okay though, right?”

She nodded, “Yes, yes, I'm fine. Though I insisted that he put an ice pack on his head, I felt guilty,” she chewed her lip, “even though I know it wasn't my fault, I still did.”

“Oh, I'm sure he's fine, Leth has a pretty hard head,” _wait a minute, did she say he was asleep on the couch?_ “Marianne? Why was my brother sleeping on the couch?”

She set her cup down, “So I can sleep on his bed, he said he didn't mind.”

Her brows furrowed, why would— _oh—_ she felt her face warm.

_That's probably how normal people do things… they've only been together about two weeks or so… and Marianne seems as reserved as Leth._

Why was she so embarrassed?

Perhaps she should talk to Mercedes about that… the older woman was the closest thing she had to anything close to a mother figure…

But the fact that she was an adult without that basic knowledge made it too embarrassing, and she was a teacher! 

Clearing her throat, she put a smile on her face, “Ya know, you can stay in my room if you want to. I think we have an air mattress somewhere. That way Leth can stop smashing his skull on the coffee table, I don't want the table to break.”

That got a soft giggle out of her, “That actual sounds like a good idea, it can be like a sleepover,” she blushed, “I've never actually had a sleepover…” she laughed slightly, “I grew up on a farm, and no one ever really wanted to talk to me while I was in school, my only friend was my horse, Dorte.”

Balaiya took a breath to respond, but Marianne's face brightened considerably as she added on quickly.

“But I've got such good friends now back home, and now here!” She looked down quickly, her hands clutching at the hem of her skirt, “I mean, if you want to be my friend that is…”

“Of course I do!” She practically shouted, then colored in embarrassment, “I mean, I would love to, you're so kind, Marianne, I’d be honored.”

“Oh that is so nice to hear!” She clapped her hands together, “I'm so happy I agreed to come with Byleth here.”

Balaiya smiled, it was almost like she was a kid again, except, this time around, someone actually said yes… “Me too, or I might have never been able to meet you! Speaking of which,” she looked around the yard then back at Marianne, “where is he anyway?”

“Oh! Right, silly me!” She held her face in her hands, and shook her head rapidly, “I forgot to mention, your father and Byleth wanted me to tell you that they were spending the rest of the day with Alois. The game is tonight after all, so they're going to watch it together.”

“Oh!” She chewed the inside of her cheek, she had wanted to go with them this time! How could they let her sleep so long??

“I hope you don't mind spending the rest of the day with me,” Marianne offered her a small smile.

Instantly the negative feeling washed away, “I don't mind at all!” She set her cup down, and faced her fully, “though I'm not sure what we can do together,” that didn't involve watching TV or something else boring…

“We can play some card games? I have a deck inside we could use.”

“That sounds like a good idea, but I'm not too good with cards,” she admitted sheepishly.

Marianne started cleaning up the area, “I can teach you! It'll be fun, promise, I also have a puzzle we can work on!”

Balaiya moved to help her, careful not to crash any of the dainty looking dishes together, “I love puzzles!” It had been a long time since she actually sat down to do one. It was hard for her to find joy in doing them these days. Hopefully, it would be different with Marianne helping her.

“Great! I'm so glad to hear it,” Marianne said softly.

Once everything was taken inside, and put away, Balaiya followed Marianne back outside to help her shake off the blanket. Each holding two corners they shook the beautiful fabric free of any blades of grass or ants that may have ventured onto the surface.

Material fluttering in the air like an ocean wave, they folded it up, carefully to bring it inside, and spread it out on the floor of her room. The fine fabric reflected the array of stars that glimmered over their heads.

Marianne sat on the blanket with her deck of cards in one hand, another cup of tea in the other. “We'll start off with easy games, there's no harm in that,” she assured, “what matters most is the fun it brings,” she cleared her throat, and set the cards out, and it was then that Balaiya realized exactly why her brother praised this woman's talents so honestly.

It was like a switch had been turned on inside the timid woman, she was glowing brightly with confidence, and tender warming care. Her voice was steady, and clear, each syllable seemed to carry it's own purpose.

It was no wonder she was praised for her speaking seminar!

She would make a great teacher, and Balaiya couldn't help the twinge of jealousy. 

How could someone make explaining silly games so interesting?

Marianne sure could.

“Does that make sense?” Marianne asked kindly, head tilting.

Balaiya almost wanted to say no, was it so she could explain it again? Surely it wasn't out of spite. She couldn't feel that way about Marianne without feeling terrible.

“Yes it does” she smiled and took some of the cards in hand, “I think I got it now.”

“Let me know if you forget anything, or need me to explain something again,” she smiled softly.

“I will,” she mumbled honestly, and made the first move to their game.

A game that actually turned out to be really fun! So much so that she asked to play it a few more times, despite having lost each time before that. She suspected that the next few games Marianne let her win, but she didn't mind. 

Somehow, Marianne managed to make her feel childish without the shame that many brought with such a feeling. She would even go as far to say that it felt welcoming.

It was, perhaps, one of the best evenings she had since moving back home. They were adults for crying out loud! But still! She laughed more than she had in awhile, and smiled more than she could remember. 

But the entire time, something felt a tad too familiar. Almost as if she had spent her day besides a ghost. And that wasn't just because Marianne was so soft spoken.

“Do you want to order something for supper?” Marianne asked, while wiping a tear away caused from her recent fit of laughter.

A joke that Balaiya particularly loved, concocted by none other than Alois himself!

“Sure!” She bounced to her feet, “Oh, and make sure you tell Leth the joke when he gets back!” She grinned, she could already hear the groan of displeasure. The fact that Marianne liked the joke made it one hundred times better!

“I will!” She giggled, and gathered up the cards, “it was such a silly joke too!”

“I must warn you though,” she stood and dug into her purse, looking for her card, “Leth doesn't like Alois's jokes.”

“Aw, really? That's a shame.” She giggled again, “they're so silly.”

“Aren't they?” She joined her back on the floor, card in hand, and started skimming through her phone, “Do you have a taste for anything specifically? There's some good pizza down the street, or we could order some great Morfisian take out.”

She tilted her head, humming to herself for a moment, “Hm, I'm not sure. I'm not too picky,” she reached into her own bag, and pulled out her puzzle, “whatever works.”

“Hm… okay then…” her brows furrowed while she dialed the pizza place. That strange feeling was back again. “Well, we’re going with pizza today.” She finished her order, and tossed her phone on her bed. “Thirty minutes.”

“This should keep us occupied until then!” Marianne shook the box in her hand, “and well afterwards!” She laughed softly.

Balaiya glanced over the box quickly, a five thousand piece puzzle! “Wow!” she laughed as well, “gosh I don't think I've ever done one with that many pieces.”

“Me neither,” Marianne popped open the box, and unzipped the bag the pieces were in. “Well, I've tried this one before, but I never finished it.”

“Well, hopefully we can finish it this time around!” She smiled and settled across from her, “I'll start on a corner,” she said as she gathered a pile of pieces together.

By the time her phone rang to tell her the food had arrived, they barely had a fourth of the puzzle finished. She brought the box of food up to her room, along with two cans of ginger ale, because Marianne didn't drink, and if she drank anything artificial, it had to be something light.

It was better for your health anyway.

As it turned out, Marianne didn't eat much either. She took two of the smallest pieces, and declared herself ready to burst, her drink not even halfway through.

Balaiya herself was four pieces in when she realized she almost ate the whole box of eight on her own! She was slightly embarrassed. Was she putting on a little weight?... That couldn't be good… she had always eaten a lot, but nowadays she was far less active… 

“I'll put the rest away then,” she cleaned up quickly, ignoring the thoughts that tried to reason with her on how ridiculous it was to put two pieces in the fridge.

It really wasn't.

“Marianne, you should come with me to Hilda's place for movie night next week. if you want. I think you’ll love it. We try to meet up once a month to keep in touch. I'm sure they'll be happy to have you!”

“Are you sure?” She asked, and moved to gather her sleep wear, “I don't want to intrude.”

She nodded, “I'm positive, They already love you anyway!” She sat on the edge of her bed, “and I'll get the air mattress ready while you shower.”

“Alright,” she smiled brightly, “I look forward to it, oh! And when I get back, maybe we can braid each other's hair?”

Balaiya tensed at that. It had been so long since she braided anyone's hair, let alone her own… and as of late she didn't even _brush_ her own hair. The messy bun it sat in wasn't just a style.

Like many things, even her hair had gotten away from her… 

It was embarrassing.

“Um, sure,” she mumbled, not wanting to come off as rude, and she desperately hoped the way Marianne's eyes softened weren't because of pity. She didn't want pity. Didn't deserve it.

“Only if you want to, of course,” she added softly, and placed her hand on her arm, squeezing it gently, “if not, you can just play with my hair. I don't mind, or we can keep working on the puzzle.”

She nodded stiffly, “Okay,” she wanted to say something more, but the words were stuck in her throat.

Marianne smiled once more before leaving quietly.

She finally allowed herself a shaky breath.

Another

Did Marianne notice what a disaster she was? If so, how honest was her kindness?

For some reason, there was a part of her that wanted to find fault in her actions. Why would she be so nice to her anyway? She wasn't exactly the most deserving person. She had so many skeletons in her closet, surely she'd chase the poor girl away if she discovered them.

Would her brother forgive her if such a thing happened?

Marianne returned what felt like moments later, but she knew more time had passed because the room had darkened considerably. She didn't even ask her why she was sitting in the dark, instead, she lit a lavender candle, and set it on her dresser with a smile.

“You can go now, if you like,” she took out an elegant looking brush.

Balaiya glanced at her briefly, forcing a smile, before hurrying off to the bathroom. 

The candle was still lit when she returned, and Marianne sat on her blanket, humming quietly to herself while she worked on the puzzle.

“Look, I've finished this whole corner,” she beamed up at her proudly, long hair waving softly down her back, like clouds.

“That's awesome!” Balaiya said, smiling, her own rats nest weighed suddenly too heavily behind her, and she grew all the more self conscious, her face fell.

Silently, Marianne held out her brush, a small smile of her own on her face.

She was so much like Mercie! But she somehow had her own brand of unbearable kindness that she wasn't used to.

She took the brush without a word, and sat behind her, taking a moment to inspect the brush. It was sturdy in her hand, the polish, smooth, and the design intricate.

She just ran it through her hair lightly, marvelling at the soft texture. Was her own hair ever this beautiful? She didn't think so… and if it had been, then it probably couldn't be saved at this point. Shame filled her chest, she knew it wasn't a good idea, to let it go for so long, never in her life would she have thought something as simple as brushing her hair would become such a laborious task… 

Every night she looked in the mirror, she thought about taking care of it, every morning when she tightened her bun she considered trying to untangle it.

But she put it off, she put it off until the very sight of her hair made her eyes sting, and all the while it only got worse.

She blinked back her tears, now wasn't the time to wallow in self pity… she shouldn't be crying anymore anyway. She deserved to feel like this…

Instead she took a deep, steadying breath, and carefully started plating the soft sky blue tresses before her.

By the goddess's grace, Marianne was patient as ever. No matter how many times she messed up, or had to start over, she only offered soft, gentle words of encouragement. 

She wanted to cry!

Her hands were shaking by the time she finished the long, simple braid, but Marianne didn't seem to mind at all.

“Oh thank you Balaiya! It's beautiful,” she grabbed her hand, and squeezed it, “I really appreciate it.”

“It was nothing,” she mumbled, and despite how much her chest twisted in turmoil, she smiled truly. “Thank you for your patience… it has… been awhile.” She laughed quietly, the shame once again digging into her.

“There is nothing wrong with that,” Marianne said, squeezing her hand again, then reached into her bag, and brought out a comb, and some hair oils. “If you're comfortable, I can help you,” she smiled.

“Oh, you don't have to… my hair is kinda hideous,” she forced a laugh, hoping it smothered how honest she felt about the statement.

Her brows furrowed, “I don't think so. I think your hair is beautiful.”

That got her throat burning again. Did she really think so?? Or was she just saying that? Why?

She could do nothing but gape at her for a few moments, before she clamped her mouth shut with a quiet, “Thank you…”

 _It's not really_ , she wanted to say.

 _You should see it down with the lights on,_ she wanted to laugh.

_It looks like a tumbleweed!_

Marianne squeezed her hand again, and tentatively moved behind her, “You know how Byleth mentioned I am writing a book?”

She nodded, “I do”.

“Well, I’m actually working on a few different ones, Would you like to hear what I got for one of them?”

“I would love to,” Balaiya said quietly.

“I am writing it as a thank you of sorts for a very good friend of mine. You kind of remind me of them,” she cleared her throat while she carefully untangled the hair tie from her mass of hair before picking up her comb. “Let’s see…” 

“ _Once upon a time, in a far away place, there was a little blue bird, now, this blue bird wasn't very special, in fact, she was quite average. But that didn't stop the other birdies from whispering about her, from laughing at her,”_ she got the hair tie free, and set it on the blanket beside her. 

_“ ‘She's ugly’, they would say, and the little blue bird believed it. ‘she's bad luck’ they would yell, and fly away when she was near. They even sang a song about her: ‘Ugly blue bird, her smile is a terrible sight, every time she tries to fly she even gives the crows a fright!’_

_But those words didn't really bother her, because she believed them with all of her heart, why else was she abandoned as a baby? Her feathers were ugly, they were tiny, useless, and she wanted nothing more than to join the other birdies in the sky, to fly up high in the big blue that whispered to her all day, and all night. But, no matter what she tried to do, she could never take flight._

_‘I'm not a bird!’ she lamented, ‘I'm a monster, a hideous beast. My feathers are ugly, I can only bring others bad luck, and I'll never reach the wonderful blue of the sky.’_

_She grew to hate the color blue, and all things like it, the sky that she once loved, and the feathers on her back. Yet she still prayed to the goddess of that brilliant blue, the lady of the sky who lived in the star as blue as the sea. She never asked for anything other than to join her in that beautiful blue, but no matter how much she prayed, whether it rained or it shined, her only response was the sound of her cries._

_One day, she climbed to the top of a tree, maybe the goddess wasn't answering her, because the ground was so far away? If she climbed as high as she could, would the goddess allow her wings to finally feel the breeze?_

_The little blue bird spread her arms wide, and took a deep breath, this had to work! It must! She was a child of the sky! Monster or no, if the goddess wouldn't catch her, then… perhaps… the ground below?_

_But before she stepped off to attempt her final flight, she heard a soft voice call out to her._

_‘What are you doing, little blue bird? Why are you crying?’_

_At first she thought it was the goddess finally speaking to her, but the voice came again, more worried this time._

_‘Won't you come down from that tree? I've been looking for someone to keep me company.’_

_Curious, and thinking it a sign, she climbed down from the tree, was the goddess actually speaking to her from below?_

_But, before her sat a child of the ground, and like her, she could see his eyes had long since tired of weeping._

_‘Why do_ **_you_ ** _cry?’ the blue bird asked the young fawn._

_'I don't know’ was her only reply._

_It was then that she realized that he too carried blue, but his blue wasn't a blanket of feathers seen with the eyes. It was a river of sorrow that pulsed through the heart, and his pain echoed her own cries._

_Soon, the blue bird decided she was okay if she never learned how to fly, she was content now that she wasn't alone. It would be okay, she decided, she was fine on the ground. She would find happiness here beside her new friend. Who was the first one to call her lucky._

_But what she found curious, and odd at first, was how the fawn spoke of the sky as if he had been born from it's brilliant light._

_Imagine her surprise, when_ **_he_ ** _was the one that taught her how to fly!_

_Her wings weren't broken, or too small, after all. They were in fact just right, and all she needed was someone to lift her, to believe in her._

_The fawn's words were encouraging, and kind. The little blue bird learned then that she too was as beautiful as the sky._

_He was right by her side when the wind finally brushed through her feathers, and together they laughed, and they cried when she first spun freely through the air. But now that she could, she was scared to fly away, she didn't want to leave behind the kind fawn that had saved her on that fateful day._

_But the child of the ground would have none of that, and he insisted, and poked her until she gave in. When she finally took to the sky she promised to find the goddess, and thank her for her newfound friend._

_After her first journey, she returned with a gift, relieved to find that he'd found a new friend! And she prayed that his heart was no longer such a sad shade of blue._

_Every now, and then she wanders through the sky, happy, and joyful for how far she'd come, but she never forgets where she started. Or how painful it could really be, and wherever she goes she always makes sure to send him a little olive tree.”_

.

“All done!” Marianne suddenly declared happily, setting the brush aside.

The feeling of damp, loose hair covering her shoulders and back brought her attention back to the room. The events of the story were still dancing through her mind.

Marianne really was a wonder with speaking, Balaiya had been so engrossed in her bittersweet tale that she didn't even notice her cheeks were wet, how long had she been crying?

Instantly, Balaiya pulled her fingers through her hair, shocked to find no resistance. It was so smooth! Her eyes watered further. “Oh, Marianne…” She turned to her, and pulled her into a hug, “t-thank you so much!”

She hugged her back gently, patting her back like a mother would to comfort a child. “You’re welcome, I'm just happy you let me help you.”

The tears came faster, it was as if a damn had broken.

The wave of emotion was overwhelming, the fact that she wasn't disgusted with the state she had been in, that she had been nothing but kind, and patient with her only served as fuel to make her eyes burn more intensely.

“I-Im sorry…” she stammered pitifully, embarrassed with her lack of composure. She had barely known Marianne for a month, and she was already falling apart in front of her. 

But, she couldn't remember Marianne getting frustrated at all. No matter how hard it might have been, she never once tore or cut at the mess that was her hair… She just told her a story, and never once made her feel horrible or blamed her for anything.

Marianne tightened her hold on her, a soft hand rubbing her back, “I know you’re hurting inside… There's no shame in crying you know.”

She tried to formulate another coherent thought, but everything she had been trying to ignore started to spill over. Her financial failures, her inability to communicate properly, the weight of guilt from her past mistakes, the struggle of trying to figure out what would be best, the knowledge that she had broken her closest friends heart… her Dad’s failing health, and her neglect for her own… 

All she could do was sob into the poor girl's shoulder. 

  
  



End file.
